Branches
by LightofEvolution
Summary: Narcissa is meddling, Draco is unnerved and Hermione is going to be an expert on trees... kind of. AU, EWE; Rating is up.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Here it is, my very first fic, which is Dramione to the very heart! Before you start reading, I want to express my thanks to two special ladys out there: Slyrtherinvillain7, who told me to start utilizing my holidays and start writing and utterly deserves that someone reviews her work. And, first and foremost, my brilliant, kind and encouraging beta MrBenzedrine, who keeps me up my toes, cracks me up, and teaches me so much about the English language (Yay!) my former English teacher would turn green and cry over. She took her wand, swished and flicked it and transfigured my little plot bunny into a shiny, impressive unicorn, named it Sex Ed and created a new species with it! That is why I start with a simple levitation here.**

 **Disclaimer: All the recognizable characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling and I'm making no profit with this.**

"Draco, dear?"

Narcissa Malfoy enjoyed Sunday brunches with her family, even when there were, sadly, just three seats occupied. And, judging from her husband's and son's faces, she was the only one who adored those weekly come-togethers. If you asked said son, Draco Malfoy, he would probably say he'd rather face that crazy hippogriff again instead of going through the weekly interrogations by his mother. Or ' _brunches'_ , as she disguised them. Lucius, on the other side, dreaded the brunches, because, unlike in those discussions with his wife where they contemplated the Malfoy business rationally, he couldn't get the upper hand when it came to social gossip amongst the elite in the wizarding world of Britain.

Not that he was interested in it… much.

"Draco!" Narcissa asked- no, _demanded_ , again. Draco resigned and looked up from his delicious French croissant to his meddling mother. ' _Here we go again_ …' he thought.

"You know, I met Philomena Greengrass today. She was really looking wonderfully, but can you presume what she told me?"

"No, mother, I can't," he drawled sarcastically. "Care to enlighten me?"

His mother's face lightened up at this. "Of course, darling. The Greengrasses daughter - _not_ Daphne- she has recently been married to Theodore Nott, it was a splendid wedding in March; your father and I were invited. The singing doves at the ceiling were a bit over the top, but otherwise… Oh, Blaise was there, too, don't know if he told you- you were in Iceland at the time- along with his fiancé, this strange Lovegood girl…"

Judging by the ever so slightly twitch in his left knee (Quidditch accident when he attempted to ride a broom at the age of six), Draco was close to losing his patience. Lucius counted the seconds before his son would lose it, all the while enjoying that he wasn't his wife's victim for once this week.

"…and Daphne, she looked a bit pudgy in that empire dress of hers, bit round at the middle- I suspect she's expecting. Probably that's the reason why the wedding was a bit rushed, but, on the other side, she always had a bit of a habit with eating sweets, as I remember from when the Greengrasses visited when you were little. Remember when…"

"Mother!" Draco shouted. No, he didn't shout, because Malfoys don't shout, they caught attention with necessary force, if all.

' _Half an hour after arriving. Not bad, my son. Must be a record this month.'_ Lucius chuckled inwardly.

"Please, get to your point, Mother," Draco said, more controlled but still a little unbalanced.

"Oh, naturally. Well, Astoria is back!" she stated, her bright eyes expectant. After looking into her son's irritated face, she continued, "Astoria, Daphne`s little sister. She's 25 now and recently moved back to England after she worked for the French Wizarding Bank for some years. She is a well-educated young woman, you see, quite pretty and talented in finances." There was still no dawning on Draco's face.  
Lucius counted, ' _Three, two one…'_ And, _finally_ , some recognition flickered in Draco's piercing grey eyes, and his eyebrows raised. ' _Ah,_ _there it is.'_

"No, mother!"

"Oh, please, Draco! Just one more time."

"No, mother, I won't be set up by you again! I _won't_ go on a date with her! I _won't_ make her the next Mrs. Malfoy!" Draco was horrified -his mother wanted to set him up! Again! She should have had enough after the last disastrous time in which he had given in, which ended up with an awkward dinner with Millicent Bulstrode, who drooled half the time at the prospect of tying the Malfoy heir down. Literally.

"My son..." Lucius intervened.

' _Great, now it's two against one. Very Slytherin._ ' Draco scowled.

"Perhaps you should take it into consideration to settle down. You're nearing thirty and I think you had enough time to… repel your horns, so to speak."

And that Draco had done indeed. Power, Money, good looks and a restored reputation after the war – albeit not enough restored to kill his irresistible Bad-Boy-image - he had it all. So, naturally it was quite common for him to take many different witches to his bedroom. Or the expansive living room of his penthouse. Or the next deserted corner behind a posh club.

"I'm hardly old, father." Draco frowned.

"No, you aren't. But when I was your age, I was already leading the Malfoy Empire successfully, had a beautiful wife and son soon to be born, and contacts to all the important people in our world." He glanced over to his wife, still very much in love with her; even more so after all the misgivings they overcame.

"Yes, and you had a cool tattoo on your arm as an entrance card for an exclusive group who liked to play dress up, led by a reptile with a split personality," Draco continued his father's praise of himself.

"Draco, that was bad form!" Narcissa admonished him. "We don't even pressure you to carry on the Malfoy dynasty by marrying one daughter of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

"That is because they all already are somewhere in our ancestry; multiple times. The whole family tree is just a few inches away from turning into a circle," the young man deadpanned. His mother, however, decided to ignore that remark and continued.

"We've grown very tolerant after that… skirmish that ended in that horrible battle. Any pureblood girl with a decent upbringing should do." Draco clenched his jaw, because his mother's voice told him that she was heading to the end of their conversation, and he wouldn't like it. Lucius could very nearly hear the metaphorical trap falling shut. "Nonetheless, we shouldn't let this grand opportunity pass, and this is why I invited Astoria to participate at our Charity Event in favour of the Hogwarts muggle-born scholarship next week by your side. I expect you to play nice with her."

Draco's shoulders sunk. He had repressed this important piece of work for the restoring of his family's reputation purposefully. He simply could not stay away from it, not only because it was hosted at his childhood home, but because all the important people came together there, him included (as his father seemed to forget, as the Deputy Head of the Department of International Cooperation, _he_ had earned himself a powerful position in the ministry).

"As if I had a choice."

"But don't play _too_ nice, my son. We wouldn't want the new Malfoy heir to be conceived out of wedlock. Therefore, avoid all the cozy alcoves and niches our Manor has, yes?" Lucius zoomed out at that thought, seemingly reminiscing.

"It will be be an exquisite evening!" exclaimed Narcissa. "By the way, I even got the Potter-boy and his wife to accept." She smiled proudly and ended the topic by switching to something else Draco paid no attention to.

 _'Great, absolutely bloody fantastic. Another brainless woman that can't uphold an intelligent conversation by my side and Scarhead as a cherry on top, probably with the Weasel and the bookworm in a package. That is going to be a very long night.'_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: A big thank you to all the kind readers who left a review or simply read and followed it after one chapter. I hope you all like this one. And I bow to the floor to my awesome beta MrBenzedrine, the woman who is the world biggest expert on citrus fruits *wink*. You all should read Sex Ed and How To Train Your Auror 1 and 2 (Family Ties) to understand what I mean!**

 **Disclaimer: Still it all belongs to JKR and no profit is made from this.**

As much as Draco wished for a charm that would accidentally obliviate his Mother, Father, the pureblood elite and the Who's-Who of the Wizarding World to forget about it, Saturday came fast and with it the Charity Event at Malfoy Manor.

One could admit, though, that the gloomy, and in more ways than one, dark building was not the best choice for a cheery and sophisticated evening in the sake of Hogwarts attendants; however, it definitely had its perks for Draco. He would be in no danger to splinch himself while apparating, because he could walk the short distance to the room his parents kept prepared for him.

No. When he would leave the party at a decent time, most probably drunk, bored and unsatisfied, he could simply crawl under his soft, emerald green blanket (because it _really_ was his favourite colour) and fall asleep. Rather, that _was_ his plan when he descended the stairs to the ball room, shortly stopping to check his appearance in a mirror one last time, straightening his impeccable tailored black dress-robes.

"Hermione, please…" the red-head whined.

"Ginny, no!" Hermione's patience was running thin.

"Just an inch or two shorter! You have such nice legs to show, you have to put them out in the male public." Ginny Potter twirled her wand in her hand, the tip facing the hem of Hermione's simple but stunning black dress.

"Ginny, I'm a respected scientist. Not a cheap girl with issues to overcome! An inch shorter and my kidneys will have air conditioning." The issue-part was just true to a certain point, and Hermione knew that very well. She simply didn't want to admit it in front of her best female friend, in whose dressing room they currently stood.

The so called Brightest-Witch-of-her-Age -she hated this description, because honestly, was there an official list with all the brightest witches of all the ages? And if there was, who made it, the Sorting Hat? – was indeed a respected Researcher at the Ministry of Magic. There, she could do what she loved the most: solving riddles, burying the head in heavy tomes, developing spells and charms along with their counters, and she wasn't even limited to one Department. Her latest and broadly reviewed essay explained with many historical examples – magical and muggle – why the conflict that had resolved around Tom Riddle shouldn't be declared as a 'war'.

"Okay, so you are not a cheap girl, but you do have some issues to overcome." That earned her a smack on her shoulder from the other witch.

"Ouch! I didn't deserve that. Issues or not, you should show that confunded brother of mine what he is missing!" Ginny said.

Hermione winced at that. Her ex-boyfriend wasn't her favourite conversational topic at the moment as the break-up – that contained a creative use of her newly invented jinxes on Hermione's side – lay merely three months back.

"Ginny, I appreciate your effort to cheer me up, but honestly, I neither want Ron back nor my… assets displayed for advertisement. I'm not ready for another relationship," Hermione stated.

"Who said I was talking about a relationship? I'm sure a quick romp with an attractive wizard would do wonders to your stressed mind and body… ouch!" That earned her another smack on the shoulder.

"Ginevra Potter! Is there a Nargle running wild in your head?" Hermione couldn't help but smile. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and was thoroughly satisfied with her Ginny-helped appearance. She had to admit, the two-inch black heels and the deep red painted nails and toes completed her outfit beautifully. Even her hair was somewhat tamed, falling in smooth curls over her shoulders – thank Merlin for the Molly Weasley Compendium of the most useful household charms.

"Why are you yelling at my wife, when she is how I love her the most: barefoot and pregnant?" Harry Potter entered, a smirk on his face and slid his arms around his wife's slightly protruding belly.

"The barefoot part is simply because it took me ages to decide which shoes to wear. As for the yelling, that was because, oh Chosen-One-Who-Will-Sleep-On-His-Chosen-Couch-This-Night, I wanted the rest of the world including my dear brother to see that Hermione is not only the most intelligent part of the Golden Trio, but also has a body that deserves male ravishing. Don't you agree?" Ginny answered, leaning her head back at her husband's shoulder.

Harry kissed Ginny's cheek. "I agree a 100%. You're looking astonishing, Herms, but my big-brother-instinct tells me not to leave you unattended this evening. By the way, we're going to be late if we don't hurry up. "

Laughing loudly now, Hermione turned to leave the room. "I'm a big girl, Harry. I can handle some Y-chromosome-bearers with my left pinkie!"

"No doubt there," Ginny smirked, finally putting on her pumps. "But I'm not convinced that they can handle you!" The three of them laughed, walking the short distance to the floo-access in the living room.

' _Perhaps this evening won't be as bad as I thought; my friends being with me, exclusive food and drinks and all for a good cause. That could help me ignore that the whole thing takes place in an aristocratic Manor that is in desperate need of an interior designer and some warm colours.'_ Hermione thought before she stepped into the green flames, shouting "Malfoy Manor!"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Yay, I had so much fun writing this weekend, I couldn't help myself and continued. As the weekend is over now, the updates will slow down. Thanks to all the reviewers and readers, it's still shocking to me that someone reads my work!  
To Slytherinvillain7, who has the same opinion on 'Mione and cats as me.**

 **To MrBenzedrine, my unbelievable fast beta and alpha-reader. She lives on the other side of the big water, but very close to my Dramione part of my brain!**

 **Disclaimer: Not mine, all JKR, no profit. You know the song.**

The first thing Draco did when he entered the ballroom was help himself to a tumbler of Firewhiskey. Pure, not on the rocks, he wanted to be a cultivated drunk, after all.

After sipping gracefully and pouring himself a second, he decided to take upon his duty as the heir and 'socialize with the guests'.

Though those were his mother's words and not his own, this aristocratic behaviour had been ingrained into his brain since he could walk and talk properly. Or more concrete since he could be bribed with some supreme sweets to leave his fuzzy plush dragon and mingle with his parent's guests. Years _('You're nearing thirty'_ Lucius' voice rang in his head, somewhat mean) and years of training had made him a master in this.

In the middle of an 'interesting' (insert _boooooring_ here) talk with the Swedish Secretary of Economics about the taxes on moose meat and its impact on the international potion market, Draco received a not-so-gentle pat on his shoulder.

"Draco, mate!" He turned and looked into the smiling face of Theo Nott. Excusing himself from the Swedish Secretary, he shook hands with his friend. The manly hug they usually engaged in wasn't fitting for the evening.

"Theo, finally out of bed after your honeymoon?" he grinned. "I'm really sorry I couldn't come to your wedding, but I was stuck in Iceland. All the portkeys were frozen and no warming charm would help." That was partially true. If he had really wanted, he could have taken a very early warmed portkey in the morning, but… let's simply say he found a more pleasurable way to keep himself warm. And not just himself.

Theo smirked at this. "Of course. Did you, by any chance, find some new friends there who actually believe your stories? Or was it some pretty witches convincing you to stay?" Now it was Draco's turn to smirk. His friend knew him all too well.

"Speaking of pretty witches, let's go over so I can re-introduce you to the new Mrs. Nott and my sister-in-law." Draco followed Theo to a place next to the bar, where Daphne and her sister stood. After Draco had kissed Daphne on her cheek in ways of greeting and complimented her on her dress, Theo gestured over to the woman standing next to his wife.

"Draco Malfoy, this is Astoria Greengrass, perhaps you remember her from school." he introduced them formally. Draco took in the witch's appearance. She was gorgeous, undoubtedly. Black, straight hair, stunning blue eyes and curves in all the right places, dressed in a fitted pastel-blue evening gown that matched her eyes. She smiled demurely when Draco bowed slightly and took her hand for a kiss.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Greengrass. I hope you enjoy yourself this evening." He smiled politely.

"The pleasure is all mine, I'm thoroughly enjoying myself. And it's Astoria for you, Draco. After all, we are old acquaintances, aren't we?" she said, winking. Draco took this as his clue to drop the formal attire, but inwardly stopped to rummage through his memories from school.

' _Old acquaintances? What did she mean by that?'_ Unsurprisingly, Draco had had more than a handful _acquaintances_ in his time at Hogwarts, especially in the year when he came back to continue his interrupted schooling.

His reputation as a pardoned ex-Death Eater who turned his back to the dark side in a war – _'Wait!'_ , his intellectual brain cells screamed. ' _A recent essay has come up with an argumentation as to why it hasn't been a war. Brilliant work',_ he had to admit. – seemed to prove itself irresistible for the girls from all houses.

' _Was Astoria one of those fan girls? Damn, I can't remember for sure. I should have written a list.'_ Draco contemplated and resumed small-talk with the witch and the bystanding newlyweds.

To his surprise, Astoria was quite an accomplished conversational partner. She had indeed a deep knowledge of the continental and British financial markets, and it was very easy for Draco to talk about his work and the upcoming investments of the Malfoy business empire with her.

' _Perhaps she isn't the worst candidate Mother could come up with,'_ the part of his conscious whispered that still wanted to placate his parents and centuries of family history.

' _Yeah, and a more than suitable candidate for private games. Look at her, buddy!'_ his more _physical_ oriented conscious added.

Before Draco could contemplate his train of thoughts any further, Astoria leaned over to her sister. "This is going to be interesting, look who just arrived." The group turned to the entrance, where Ron Weasley had stepped in and was looking around the room, seemingly watching out for someone. Trailing behind him, in a too tight and too short pink dress, smiling as if the evening was dedicated to her, was Lavender Brown.

"The Weasel becoming interesting, what has the world come to?" Draco drawled sarcastically.

Theo, on the other side, was intrigued. "Not him; the upcoming highlight when he meets his ex-girlfriend for the first time after their messy split. And as a bonus he brought his new, or to be _exact_ , his warmed over girlfriend with him."

"Oh, after all those years, Granger has finally had the guts to dump Potter's sidekick?" Like all of his former housemates, Draco was fairly interested in such pivotal information. The rest of the world called it gossip, Slytherins called it scheming. One could never know when those bits of knowledge could be held over a person.

"I heard it was more that he dumped himself. Svenson from the Auror Division said that she saw him fooling around with Brown." Daphne provided.

"No!" Draco was shocked _. 'Not even Weasley could be that stupid!'_

"Yes! And Winter from the Research Department told me Granger caught them _in flagranti_ in _his_ office when he and Granger had an appointed date for lunch!" Theo contributed.

"No!" Astoria and Draco gasped. ' _Scratch that, only Weasley could be that stupid!'_

"Yes! They had to call a whole Cleaning Squad, which is normally reserved for worst case scenarios in the Auror Division, to that corridor. And if Potter had not cooled her down a bit, I'm sure she would have sent the whole Ministry into shambles!" Theo smirked at that.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, I'd say. But I can't remember that she was such a spitfire at school. An unbearable, annoying know-it-all for sure, but that? She really must have been pissed off."

Just at the very moment Draco spoke the last word, his Mother floated past the four and, without knowing what he was actually talking about, admonished him in passing, "Language, Draco!"

"Sorry, Mother!" he muttered automatically and focused his view on the scene that unfolded at the other end of the room, as did Astoria, Daphne and Theo.

Ron had spotted Granger, Potter and She-Potter and walked over to them. He hugged his sister, gave his friend a clap on the back and then stood in front of the bookworm, hesitating.

"He won't…" whispered Astoria.

"But yes, he will," Daphne said. Practically in slow motion they watched as the Weasel threw his arms around the witch, who stood there, stiff, with clenched fists.

From the looks of her, it took her every ounce of self control not to pull a Seamus Finnigan – meaning: blowing up something or the other – right then.

Then Weasley started talking. The four Slytherins couldn't hear what he said, but they all knew he shouldn't have done that.

Scarhead and his wife stood by their friend's side, dumbfounded, intelligent enough not to meddle. Except that Potter slowly inched closer and, like stealing a dragon's egg, very carefully pried Granger's wand from her hand. She didn't react on that, and Draco knew that Potter finally was worth something. Otherwise his parents would have been in need of an interior designer.

Brown, on the other hand, hadn't become any wiser since her graduation. She interfered. The foursome winced, it was like watching a cauldron boiling over.

Granger`s magic started crackling around her. The 'conversation' got louder. The Weasel turned beet red. Brown continued shouting. Draco thought he heard something along the meaningless line "I won Won-Won!" coming out of Browns mouth.

"Ronald, take your Fluffy on a leash, won't you!" Granger all but screamed.

" _How does she know my plush dragon's name? Curious."_ Draco wondered.

Next, Weasley laid his hand on Granger's shoulder in what he surely thought a calming gesture.

The bookworm's expression changed into something Draco recognized all too well from his Third Year. He knew what was coming next.

 _Crack!_ Granger's fist connected with Weasley's nose. The man howled and held his hands in front of his face.

' _Good girl!'_ Draco couldn't help but admire the woman's courage.

The witch in question made one menacingly step in Brown's direction, who already had started wailing. Then she backed away, turned on her heel, and stormed out of the ballroom, sparks still flying around her.

A strange, warm feeling spread in Draco's stomach as his eyes followed Granger's departure. After getting a nice view on the witch's formidable backside – ' _Is that new? Or was it simply hidden under loose robes all the time?_ ' – it occurred to Draco that he had seen something in Granger's eyes that he had missed in Astoria's all night. Raw, magical and personal passion.

The conversations in the room continued after they had stopped during that – for Weasley and Brown – unfortunate encounter.

"Well, do you think that this could be considered as some sick form of foreplay in the muggle-world where Granger comes from?" Astoria asked.

"Forget the foreplay. Weasley just got screwed." Draco answered, Theo and Daphne nodding along.

"That cursed, thick-headed, slug-vomiting, foul, rodent-relative, sad excuse of a wizard! And that silly bint of girlfriend, what does she have her head filled with? Crayons? No, lipstick!"

Hermione Granger was outraged and swore loudly, which caused an unfriendly tisking of the portraits in the hallway she currently stomped along, her high heels long thrown away.

If it hadn't been for that traitor of a best friend Harry, who had taken away her wand, she would have hexed Ron into next year.

She could have opted for the wandless and nonverbal magic she was so very well-versed in. But sometimes, solving conflicts the old-fashioned muggle way proved much more satisfying, as she had learned from her experience with a certain blonde.

Slowly cooling down, she realized that she must have walked quite a distance from the ballroom, for she didn't recognize her environment. After looking around, she opted for taking the passage to her left, because she spied a light shining from a half-closed door.

She entered the room, hoping there was someone in it who could show her the way back. What she saw in there let her eyes shine with awe.

 **P.S.: Did anyone find the hidden film-quote in here? It's my favourite and comes from 'Evolution'.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I can't stop smiling when I read your reviews, it makes me feel all fuzzy inside! Somehow, I found time to write, hope you like it.**

 **A BIG thanks to MrBenzedrine, she is the best! Between her own, utterly fantastic fanfictions (check them out, you have to!), she still takes her time to encourage me and to beta (believe me, it's totally necessary) this little work!**

 **The line from 'Evolution' was "Forget the foreplay. We just got screwed."**

 **Disclaimer: Belongs to JKR and so on. No profit, just for fun.**

What Hermione saw in the otherwise nearly empty room was something she had always considered as a masterpiece of magic, history and art since the first time she encountered something like that in Grimmauld Place: A family tree.

Or, in this case, the Malfoy family tree; covering three-quarters of a wall, lightened by some flanking candles and the moonlight that from shown through a floor-length window. Hermione couldn't help but feel small, like she often did when she encountered the sheer force of history. She sat down on the soft oriental rug that covered the floor, because, the knowledge-addict that she was, Hermione wanted to take a lengthy look on the impressive tree.

 _'_ _But where to start?'_ she contemplated. _'Smart, Hermione, a tree starts growing from its roots, doesn't it?'_

So she listened to herself and followed the trunk to the floor, where the very first person was engraved from the 11th century: Armand Malfoy. Under the name and portrait of the wily wizard was a plaque which appeared to have been added later on that read ' _sanctimonia vincit semper_ ', a Latin saying that was often wrongly translated as 'purity conquers everything'. Hermione knew however, that 'sanctimonia' didn't mean purity, but 'holiness' or 'sacredness', which led to the correct translation ' _sacredness always wins_ '. She thought it even more fitting for the arrogant bunch of purebloods.

Her eyes followed the development of the family, which she knew was one of the oldest and richest in Europe – not that it was easy to forget: Draco had ensured that her whole Hogwarts year knew plenty of that. Her view stopped at the name Lucius Malfoy, who lived in the time of Elizabeth I. Blond and grey-eyed as his namesake and progeny, Hermione felt an instant dislike of the wizard, which was quite irrational because he was long since dead.

On the other side she was sure she had already encountered the name. _'In a history book or Professor Binn's classes? Mh, got to look in up…'_ she thought.

Taking in ten centuries of history, Hermione forgot the reason she came there, forgot the party she had been dressed to attend to and lost track of time, as she so often did when she absorbed information.

Until she heard someone at the door.

 _'_ _Bloody hell!'_ Draco swore as he tripped and nearly fell over something. _'What was that?'_ What could it be in the middle of the hallway in the wing of the Manor where the family's private quarters were? He took the offensive object from the floor and studied it.

 _'_ _A black high heel, approximately two inches.'_ When there was one positive trait that lay in his family – aside from the devilish good looks, the platinum hair and piercing grey eyes, of course – it was a superior sense of fashion.

That was why Draco recognized those shoes- no- _shoe_ from the Charity Event he had just left. The pleasant buzz that he had acquired with expensive Firewhiskey slowed his memories just slightly.

 _'_ _Deep red toes, shapely, long legs, a nice bum, a waist that begged to have my hands laid on…. Who was it again?'_

Then the sickle fell.

 _'_ _Granger!'_

It came as a surprise to him. His younger self would have sneered at him because he had described the annoying woman with positive attributes.

 _'_ _And that was just the backside. You haven't even paid attention to her front or her face yet, buddy!_ ' his physical conscious nudged him.

 _'_ _I wonder why she threw one of her shoes away when she fled the ball room,_ ' he thought and continued walking.

And tripped again.

 _'_ _Ah, bollocks, that was the other one!'_ Draco, half-annoyed, picked it up. He wasn't that drunk to stumble every five feet.

 _'_ _Brilliant, now I have to return the shoes by owl tomorrow.'_

His thoughts turning back to the evening as he resumed walking. He had kissed Astoria goodbye, because that was what everyone awaited from him, wasn't it? At least his Mother awaited that when he saw her standing some distance away, bidding Theo and Daphne goodbye, having a little small-talk with the couple to allow him and Astoria some 'privacy'.

He had listened to their conversation, tough.

 _'_ _When will the newest Nott family member make an appearance, Daphne?' asked his mother, of course. The_ _nerve of her!_

 _'_ _Pardon?' Daphne asked irritated, naturally._

 _'_ _Sorry, dear, must have been some reflection or something.' Narcissa excused with a smile._

He had suppressed a very unbecoming snort at that. Then he had kissed the beautiful, intelligent witch in front of him. It was a short kiss and it had been… fine. Nothing more. Astoria was nice enough, though, she simply wasn't what he expected of a wife. Too docile. He needed fire, someone who could be his verbal and magical sparring partner. Someone who challenged him, not simply someone who was good in bedroom-Quidditch.

This running through his mind, he strolled on into the direction of his room, when he saw a half-open door. He went to close it – ' _Those House Elves are not as helpful as they once were!'_ – when, from the corner of his eye, he spotted someone sitting on the floor. He moved to address the obviously female person, his hand still on the door knob, when… _'Shit!'_

Hermione got up from the floor at lightning speed, her long, unnecessary battle field instincts suddenly wide awake and firing a wandless stunning spell at her would-be attacker. The black-white mass crumbled to the floor.

 _'_ _Ooops. Which poor sod did I stun here?'_ Calming herself, Hermione walked to the obviously male, well-dressed, broad shouldered, nice-muscled, blond haired person on the floor.

"Malfoy!" she exclaimed, just feeling a tad guilty.

He should have known better than to surprise her than that!

In the dark. In his house.

Carrying her banned shoes that now had fallen next to him.

 _'_ _Mh, okay, perhaps he could not have known better. Perhaps I shouldn't have stunned him. That means that I have to wake him up now. Pity, he is so much more handsome when he has no sneer or smirk on his face. But well…'_

" _Ennervate_!"

Malfoy opened his eyes. Slowly at first, until his view landed on his attacker. _That_ had him wide awake.

"Oi, Granger, what the hell possessed you to go all Auror on me?" He stood up slowly.

"Well, for the records. I worked as an Auror for some time, until it got too boring," she fired back.

"So, this is your idea for excitement then? Placing your high heels all over the hallway in expectation to have someone break his neck over it? Or lurking in the tree room, waiting to stun an unsuspecting heir into oblivion? Did you want to have your way with me, or what?"

Hermione blushed a bit at that. "Perhaps next time. And I haven't been lurking, I have been admiring your tree here." The second the words came out of her mouth she wanted to take them back.

 _'_ _Fantastic, Hermione. Remember? First think, then talk. We practiced that. Not: first blabber, than blush! Now, how did that sound like?'_

To her astonishment, she wasn't rewarded with a smirk, but an amused, low chuckle, that somehow made her nerves tingle. _'Must be the wandless magic…'_

"Okay then, shall I explain my tree to you?" He _Accioed_ two cosy chairs from the next room, sat down in front of the artwork on one and patted on the other with his hand. "Sit and learn, young Gryffindor." He said.

 _'_ _Wait, did he wink at me?'_ Hermione wondered. _'Is he actually flirting with me? He must be drunk, seriously. On the other hand, better he provides me with that irresistible information than his father, right? Take as you can get, Ginny said, didn't she?'_

 _'_ _Yes, but she didn't mean it that way! She meant…'_ Hermione's more girlish part started.

 _'_ _Shhh! Be quiet and listen! Did you know he could sound so soothing?'_

"Well, you see, here at the bottom, is Armand Malfoy, who was part of the Norman army when William conquered England in 1066. The king provided his loyal follower with this land in Wiltshire. He protected it with some nasty blood magic that still works for us. Arman married Catherine, a cousin of William, and had five children with her; three of them survived. They are here." He pointed his finger along a line that reached from Armand to Antoine, Léo and Josephine Malfoy. "Antoine died at seventeen, leaving Léo as the only male heir. Josephine married a local landlord, which earned the family a further acres of land, when sixty years later that branch of the line became extinct – not all too accidentally as the sources in our family archives say. Can you still follow me?"

Draco looked at Hermione, who had a glow on her face that he recognized from his school days. Strangely, he didn't find it repulsive anymore. More alluring...

"Of course I can follow! It's fascinating!" The woman next to him smiled dreamily, eyes still on the family tree.

Hidden from his all-day business, Draco could suddenly remember all those hours he had spent with his father in this room, listening to how the Malfoy legacy came to be what it was today. He continued talking, genuinely enjoying to have someone listening to his family's history- a beautiful woman at that. Because Draco could admit to himself that he thought Granger quite attractive, even more so as she now had her feet folded under her, causing her short dress to ride some way up.

Focusing on the tree again, he spoke "Léo, however, had four children with his wife, Estelle….."

Draco had talked his way far in the 13th century, totally concentrated on his history lesson, when he felt something warm and soft on his left shoulder. Granger's head.

 _'_ _She must have dozed off at some point. Pity.'_

Carefully shrugging his shoulder he tried to wake the witch. "Hey, Granger, wake up!"

No reaction, not even with the second try. Time to take the heavy weapons out.

"Hermione, wake up, you're late for class, Potions is starting in three minutes!"

That did the trick and she awoke with a start.

"What?" Again, he had to admit to himself that she was pretty cute when she was so dishevelled, eyes shining, cheeks flushed, hair in a disarray. And her name on his lips had felt… nice?

"Come on, Granger, let's take you to the floo-room. As much as I enjoyed this, it seems we have to continue the story-telling another time."

 _`Man, did I just say that I enjoyed the encounter with her AND invited her for another? Fast, cover that with an insult or something!`_

"I'm sure you have to visit Scarhead and his wifey to retrieve your wand he stole from you when you threw your temper." Draco spoke. _'Well done, not very creative, but reliable.'_

"It's Harry and Ginny Potter, Malfoy. ' _Scarhead_ ' is getting old and _'wifey'_ is quite derogatory, don't you think?" Hermione said, though without malice in her voice and stepped through the door in the direction Draco gestured to.

The two of them walked the distance to the floo in a strange companionable silence, leaving behind the room with its impressive family tree – and a pair of black high heels.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I want to dedicate this chapter to one of closest friends Jenny, who has to fight for her life again and still has the power to make everyone smile. Never give up, girl!**

 **Disclaimer: All belongs to JKR. No profit.**

When Hermione stepped out of the green flames into Harry's and Ginny's living room, she found the couple on the sofa, apparently waiting for her. With some struggle due to her shifted center of gravity, Ginny set her feet on the floor and started her interrogation immediately. And loudly.

"Young lady, have you got any idea how late it is? We've been worried sick for you!"

Hermione had to stifle a laugh at the perfect impersonation of Molly that Ginny displayed. Harry's expression became a bit unsettled at the very same thought.

"Relax, Gin, all is fine, I simply…" the brown-haired witch started.

"Don't ` _Relax, Gin_ ' me, Hermione," Ginny interrupted her. "We couldn't find you after you punched Ron – you should have gone for his balls, by the way. That would have hurt the human bon-bon all the same – and then we went to your apartment but you weren't there, and we couldn't go back to the Manor because of those _we-are-VIP-wards_ and the owls couldn't reach you either…." Ginny ranted.

` _Wow, Ginny will be the perfect Mum.'_ Hermione thought by herself. _'She already has the gift for letting you feel guilty over nothing, coming in a package with the giving-advices-while-scolding-number.'_

"Ginny, listen to me, I-" Hermione tried again.

"-I haven't finished. You were wandless in the very Manor you had been tortured in. " She suddenly stopped, taking in Hermione's appearance for the first time- and then started smirking. "Tousled hair, dress in wrinkles, glazed eyes. And where are your shoes?"

 _`Damn. They are still lying on the tree room's floor. Seemingly, I was a bit distracted.'_ Hermione inwardly sighed. _`Not that it wasn't worth it. The history lesson, I mean.'_

"Hermione Jean Granger, you were making out with a wizard! I can't believe it, you finally followed my advice. Who was it? Did you go all way? Was it any good? I want details!"

 _'_ _Wow, those pregnancy hormones really cause a roller coaster of mood-changes! No wonder Harry is a bit stressed sometimes. From angry to nosy to naughty in under 10 seconds…'_

"Listen, Gin, why don't you leave Hermione's…. adventures to herself? I'm not entirely sure I want to hear about them, either." an a bit reluctant Harry interfered.

"Thank you Harry, but I haven't had any _adventures_ as you did so nicely put it. You can call it sex, you know. I think you are well acquainted with the concept." Hermione said, gesturing over to Ginny.

Harry's wife snickered at that, calm again. "Oh, sister, stop it. Firstly, don't do that to my innocent husband, you know he is a bit of a prude. And, secondly, I recognize a distraction when it's jumping in my face. Don't forget I grew up with six brothers, two of them inventing joke devices for a living. So, spill it, who were you with?"

 _'_ _Mh. That was so much easier with Harry and Ron.'_ Ginny still looked at her expectantly, so she decided to go for the truth. Considered all circumstances, it _had_ been a fairly innocent run-in. _'Yeah, sadly, it was._ _Because you left your best opportunity in months running into the Forbidden Forest, so to speak, because you fell asleep on his strong, Quidditch-toned shoulder, you twat!'_ Hermione's decidedly female part reprimanded her.

Finally, she answered.

"Malfoy. I was with Malfoy." _'Ugh. That sounded exactly wrong.'_

Her friends' reactions were an interesting combination of emotions.

Harry turned green. "Herms, really? Was that necessary?" he scolded. Ginny, on the other hand, squealed, "Jackpot! I saw him talking to the Notts and Astoria Greengrass. He turned out quite handsome, didn't he? Delectable ass. Good enough to eat." Horny Ginny made a deal with hungry Ginny now. Fantastic.

"I was not _with_ him. He kind of surprised me when I stared at his family tree. And don't get it wrong, I mean that thing engraved on a wall," she added hurriedly. "Then he conjured two chairs and started telling me about the Malfoy's fascinating history that goes back more than ten centuries, you see? And I was so tired after all that ruckus with Ron and Lavender and somehow fell asleep on him. He woke me up and took me to the floo. That's all, honestly." Hermione finished.

"Oookay. So, basically, you tell me that you were alone with the 'Slytherin Sex-God' himself – and believe me, there _was_ a poll in my year – and all you did was _talking_?" Ginny was astonished.

"No. I was _listening._ " Hermione corrected. That was even more unbelievable for her friends.

Harry was, nonetheless, relieved at it, the over-protective lion in him purring, ' _Listening is safe.'_

"You were always a bit slow with those things. Now, for your next meeting with Malfoy, do me a favour and wear that pair of tight jeans and the purple top with the low neckline we shopped together, okay?" Ginny demanded.

"Next meeting? We didn't talk about a next meeting…" – ' _But he did, didn't he?'_

"Nonsense. You have to retrieve your shoes somehow, don't you? And it's just polite to do that personally. So, when you do, dress as the pregnant lady wishes and tell her all about it later, yes?" With that said, Ginny thrust Hermione's wand gently into her hand, kissed her cheeks and ushered the dumfounded witch towards the floo.

Entering her dark apartment via the fireplace, Hermione sighed. _'What an evening. Punches, insults and jinxes. With Ron, Lavender and Malfoy all making an appearance on stage, it was Hogwarts all over again, wasn't it?'_ she thought, slightly amused, when she heard an insistent knocking on her kitchen window. She opened it for the waiting black and pretty impressive owl that stretched out her leg gracefully, let an envelope fall into Hermione's hands and took off again, without waiting for a treat.

 _'_ _Can an owl be arrogant? This one was, indeed. Who has his bird trained like that?'_

It was when her eyes fell on the elaborated curved _'DM'_ on the envelope that Hermione knew what the answer was. _'Of course.'_ Inside was a short message in neat script.

 _Granger,_

 _Found something that is yours - again. Left it at the Manor, though. Up for another round of lingering for the heir in the tree room'?  
Come to my penthouse at 10 a.m. tomorrow and we will go over to the Manor.  
I'll be prepared this time._

 _Draco Malfoy_

Scribbled under the short text was a floo-address in an expensive part of Wizarding London.

 _'_ _This could be interesting._ ' Hermione smiled.

\- DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH -

At 10 a.m. sharp next morning, when his fireplace was activated, the first thing that came into Draco's mind was ' _Yep. That must have been hidden all the time under those robes. Or more covered and awaiting to be unpacked?'_

' _Stop staring, Draco, it's impolite!_ ' another voice in his head, sounding frightening similar to his Mother, countered.

Finally stopping to stare at her wonderfully tight jeans and perfectly cut neckline of her purple top, he looked into her eyes and couldn't resist to smirk.

"Morning, Granger. Ready to finally grab your possessions and face the lion's den again?"

The witch smiled at that. "Good morning to you too, Malfoy. And shouldn't it rather be called the _snakepit_? How do we get there, by the way?"

Picking up a basket from a table and ignoring the snide remark, he explained, "You will side-along with me, as you are not allowed to apparate on you own on the Manor's grounds."

Granger seemed to be put off at that. "Why, because I'm no pureblood?"

"Drop your prejudices, will you? It is because you are no _Malfoy_ ," He corrected her and grabbed her hands – _'They are quite smooth. And warm. Wonder how they would feel on… Focus, Draco, focus! 'War Hero splinched in Malfoy Manor' doesn't make a good headline!'_

"Hold on tight. Three, two, one…" And with a silent _Crack!_ Draco apparated the two of them into his parent's house.

Straight into his old bedroom.

 **P.S.: Special thanks to my beta MrBenzedrine – hopefully she finds her precious! And to Slytherinvillian7, who is simply lovely. And to my reviewers from the last chapter: Sam Wallflower (did you take reviewing as a class at university?), Sazzzzzl (still not sure about the history thing), pgoodrichboggs (be patient…), and clarkfan325 (glad you enjoyed yourself).**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I still can't believe that there are so many nice people out there reading this… Thanks so much! As you can see, I changed the rating to M, because I don't know yet how graphic I want to write Draco's and Hermione's encounters. Thank you to my wonderful beta MrBenzedrine, her comments are worth more than gold!  
And a compliment to all the ladys (such as Sazzzzzle's sister) who have an inner Ginny or know one. Glad you liked her. **

**Disclaimer: All JKR. Just playing and no profit.**

A bit shaken, as she always was from side-along apparition, Hermione opened her eyes. And looked directly into the grey orbs of Malfoy. And they stared back.

' _Huh?'_ was all her brain could come up with; the rest was a haze. Her hands, however, must have found their way away from his grip to his chest while apparating and were now resting on the hard muscles there.

' _Oh, seriously? That's ridiculous. he is working behind a desk, not handling dragons or something.'_ She knew that by a hands-on experience with Charlie Weasley two months back. He and Harry had crashed while flying and had landed themselves in Arthur's precious roses. Hermione had spent the afternoon removing thorns from a sweating and shirtless Charlie. She suspected it was a set-up from Ginny.

Shrugging the haze and all distracting thoughts away, she took her environment in.

"Malfoy, this isn't the room with the family!" she all but shrieked and wound her way out of his peculiar grip on her arms.

"They don't call you that silly title `Brightest-witch-of-her-Age' for nothing, eh? Of course it is not the tree-room- it is my old bedroom. Have a look around if you want, I have something to show you." Finally releasing her, he went for the four-poster-bed.

"Bet you have…" Hermione mumbled under her breath.

"Excuse me?"

"I asked: Is it safe? I kind of expect a trap-door opening that sends innocent muggle-borns straight into the dungeons." Even Hermione knew she had gone too far with that _. 'And now let's say it all together: First think, then talk!'_

Malfoy frowned shortly, but then decided for a small snort. "Don't be afraid, fair maiden, that door wasn't used since my predecessor Ignotius Malfoy's days. Though, you tempt me." With that he turned around and rummaged through the books on the bedside table.

' _Okay, this time I'm sure he winked. And that was a very quick-witted answer.'_

That thought made Hermione a bit giddy inside, because it was something she had always missed with Ron. She always won their arguments by points through logic and quick thinking. Not that she didn't enjoy being right, because she definitely did. But all Ron had come up with when he was overpowered was stomping on the floor, gaining an unhealthy facial colour, or leaving the room abruptly.

"Ah, here it is. Interested?" He held a heavy and obviously old tome towards her.

' _The Treasured Trees,'_ Hermione read. ' _It's a book about family trees. How thoughtful.'_

"Oh, thank you. How could I resist that? So, how is it we didn't apparate directly into the room with the tree?" She asked.

"The wards don't allow that, not even for me. Father says it has something to do with humility in the face of the ancestors. Quite weird, if you ask me, because the Malfoys have always prided themselves with their prowess, magical and otherwise." He paused. "Shall we have a look at your object of attraction?"

' _Mh, yes.'_ Not even trying to avoid to inspect Malfoys bum when he led the way through the confusing passages in the Manor, taking a mental picture to describe it to her friend later. _'Delectable was exactly the right word, Ginny!'_

Entering the tree room again, Hermione gasped. Instead of the two chairs from the last evening, there lay a soft-looking blanket on which Malfoy now placed the basket he had carried with him all along.

"Told you I would be prepared, Granger. Sit down." He genuinely smiled when he opened the basket and the room was instantly filled with the delicious scent of biscuits and muffins that Malfoy had the House Elves prepare earlier that morning, she presumed. Because in all seriousness, could anyone picture Draco Malfoy standing in line in a bakery on Sunday morning?

Along with the sweets, he pulled some fruits out of the basket, two glasses and a bottle of red wine that probably was worth more than her apartment, which he opened immediately.

"It's not even 11 in the morning and you want to….hmmmh!"

She didn't get any further, because he had stuffed a perfectly ripe strawberry between her lips, effectively silencing her and looked her straight into her eyes, voice mockingly deep.

"Hush now. You have to know, young Gryffindor-Princess, that we Malfoys not only have mingled with the more sinister aspects of magic in the past, but we also always knew how to spend our money on the more enjoyable goods." _'Did he call me princess?'_

"Meaning woman and wine?" She quietly said when she had swallowed the strawberry, swiping her tongue over her lips to get the rest of the sweet juice. She observed his eyes dropping to her lips, the tips of his ears reddening slightly. _'Two can play this game, Malfoy.'_

"Ehm, yes, exactly. Let's not break with traditions then and drink the wine."

Hermione had to laugh loudly at that. "I wonder why your ancestors haven't sent their ghosts to haunt us yet. Gods, me being here, alone in this room with the only heir must be breaking at least a hundred traditions in your family!"

"Not if you're solely here for my pleasure." He deadpanned, smirking of course.

' _Such a flirt. Nobody's going to believe me when I tell I've been to Malfoy Manor and liked it.'_

"Because it really is my pleasure to tell you about my family history." More smirking. "What is the last thing you remember from yesterday?"

' _Being snuggled to a solid warm shoulder,'_ The brown-eyed woman thought.

"That Julius Malfoy interfered at the Goblin rebellion in 1252." The bookworm answered.

"Yes, they were very troubled times. Even more so when Julius' son Brutus went behind his father's back…"

Malfoy talked on for quite some time and – _'Girl, can he talk! Never expected him to have such a nice and gentle voice.'_

Unconsciously, Hermione moved closer and closer to the man she had barely seen in the last ten years, until her fingertips brushed the sleeves of his soft white shirt. They threw each other a glance at that, lips curving into a smile, then concentrating on the family tree again, Malfoy all the while talking.

Suddenly, Hermione's eyes widened. "Wait! Repeat that, Malfoy!"

The blonde was irritated, but followed her orders. "I said that it was after the Statute of Secrecy was established in 1692 that the Malfoys stopped marrying into the British nobility and stayed within the pureblood circles. Did the last bit surprise you?"

Hermione stood up rapidly, her eyes scanning the centuries following the 17th.

"No. No, this isn't possible. Or is it? Can't be. Dark magic, perhaps?" she spoke her thoughts to herself.

"What the heck are you blabbering about? I don't understand a thing." Malfoy was clearly perplexed at her behaviour as he had never been a witness to her _here's-a-riddle-that-demands-solving-mode._

"Library! I have to go to the Ministry's library, immediately!" With that she fled the room, only to return mere seconds later, an embarrassed expression on her face, grabbed her waiting shoes and pulled at Malfoy's hand.

"What are you waiting for? I need your help again to find my way to the floo-room. This is a bloody Manor!"

She practically ran all the way, descending the stairs in a hurry, Malfoy pointing out directions and following her, chuckling. She turned around the last corner, entering the floo-room.

And ran into Lucius Malfoy.

The man simply stood there, unfazed, lifting one eyebrow in his son's direction.

The younger Malfoy tried to take control of the situation. "Mother, Father, what a nice surprise. I thought you wanted to spend the day with the Parkinsons?"

Kissing her son on both cheeks, Narcissa explained, "Draco, dear, four hours of listening to Mathilda Parkinson's shallow words are enough. I had to feign a headache."

"Miss Granger. Nice to see you again," Lucius drawled with a small bow to her.

' _Yeah. As if.'_ Hermione was a bit intimidated by Lucius Malfoy, at the same time suppressing the urge to brandish her wand. Old habits die hard.

"What was it my son _surely_ must have helped you with?"

The wheels in Hermione's head reeled. "He helped me quite a lot. You see, I started a project for the Ministry. It compares important aristocratic families in the wizarding and muggle world in a historical approach. Very fascinating so far. Draco was so kind to give me this book." She pointed to _'The Treasured Trees'_ in her hands. "Well, I have to go. Important research business." _'Whew. Hope they bought it.'_

With a polite nod to Malfoy's parents and a promising wink to the man himself, she stepped into the flames.

\- DHDHDHDHDHDHDH-

Draco stared at the fireplace and grinned before he took his Mother's arm and followed his parents to the dining room.

' _She very convincingly lied to two Slytherins, one of them being a former Death Eater, without hesitation. Wow, she really is an attractive force to be reckoned with.'_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: A big shout out to my royal (you know why, A.) beta MrBenzedrine who made the science bits less geeky and more comprehendable. Also special thanks to Slytherinvillian7, Sam Wallflower, Sazzzzzle, and pgoodrichboggs, who made me smile and laugh with their PMs/reviews.**

 **Disclaimer: Sadly not mine…**

"Mathilda told me that they try to marry Pansy off to some French pureblood." It was a habit for Narcissa to share the social information about Draco's friends from school. Whether he was interested in listening to her or not.

"Did she really use these words?" Pansy had been Draco's first girlfriend and he still cared for her – sometimes.

"Of course not, that wouldn't be sensible, would it? She said, I quote: 'We encouraged Pansy very much to expand those business arrangements with the Fourasse family with more personal engagements'." Narcissa gave her best impression of a concerned pureblood wife with the quote.

She failed miserably, because everybody who knew Narcissa could confirm that she and Lucius had a relationship where equality was quite important. The only opportunity when she had not been able to convince Lucius had ended quite disastrous with ugly marks on Lucius and the whole family's minds, and an uninvited houseguest with a rotten pet snake.

"That is even worse, if you ask me, Mother," Draco commented. "They are so eager for Pansy to marry, I wonder when they'll put a marriage advertisement in the _Prophet_."

"Speaking of eager to marry…" Narcissa started.

 _'_ _I should have seen that coming, shouldn't I? Must be Slytherin rule 19: Create a false sense of security for your victim by conversing over slightly related topics. Then take your ax and hit in your centre of interest.'_ Draco thought, disgruntled.

"I couldn't help to observe that all went well with Astoria yesterday. You kissed her, didn't you?"

 _'_ _Ah, that's rule 5: State obvious facts to get your victim present you further information.'_

"Yes, I kissed her, Mother. You saw that yourself, but…"

"And then you disappeared from the party. You didn't follow her home, Draco? Because, as I warned you, an heir conceived out of wedlock isn't easy to explain," his Father emphasised.

"No, I didn't follow her. But aren't you speaking from experience, Father?"

Lucius nearly choked on his tea at that, causing his wife to give him a hefty pat between the shoulder blades.

Oh, how long Draco had waited to present his Father this knowledge. _'Tactic 2: Collected touchy information make effective distractions when dropped at the right moment.'_

"How do you know?" The elder Malfoy still coughed a little.

Draco smirked. "Well, I simply listened to you and did some math; I was born in June, but you two announced your engagement on New Year's Eve. Let me guess-cozy alcove on Grandmother's birthday in September?"

He had rendered his Father speechless.

"No, actually; the piano in the music room on Halloween. You were a bit impatient to be born." Narcissa stated without even cocking an eyebrow. That caused wrinkles.

Now it was Draco's turn to be speechless and a tad disgusted. _'Ewww… Never going to play that piano again.'_

"Now, back to the matter at hand. I invited Astoria over for tea next Friday. You should come, too, since you finish work early on Fridays."

 _'_ _Rule Number 1: Slytherins always get what they want.'_

"Mother…." Draco tried to answer back, desperate, but his Mother wouldn't listen.

"Alright. -She is going to arrive at 5 p.m. You know Astoria is fairly intelligent, so impress her. You could tell her about that fascinating project you helped the Granger girl with. Perhaps you can deepen your understanding of that by Friday, yes?"

"I will do that, Mother," obeyed Draco. _'Definitely deepening. Starting tomorrow,_ ' he thought while he couldn't get the sight of soft lips licking strawberry-juice and bottomless brown eyes out of his head.

-DHDHDHDHDHDHDH-

On Monday, Hermione was deep in thought at her personal desk in the Ministry's library, scribbling furiously on parchment, when someone laid a hand on her arm. She looked up, surprised when she saw the handsome face of Draco Malfoy.

 _'_ _Not only his face is handsome, remember? His shoulder and chest were very promising. Wondering about the rest…'_

"Hi." She said.

"Hi yourself. Have you been here all night? Your hair looks like it."

"I simply forego your hair-insult, Mr. Stumbling-over-heels, and indulge you: No, I haven't been here all night. Ginny had Harry carry me out of here when I didn't show up for dinner at the Burrow."

"Potter's wife hasn't even given birth and is already a Mother hen, isn't she?"

"Yes, Ginny can be quite scary sometimes… Why are you here?"

"Because the Gryffindor-Princess left Malfoy Manor in a mystery-induced hurry, not without serving two Slytherins a brilliant excuse. You got me interested."

 _'_ _Likewise…. And I like being called 'princess'….'_

"Oh. Oooh, yes, it is quite overwhelming, really. Though, you have to judge yourself. Ron and Harry usually get bored easily by what I consider 'overwhelming', but as it concerns your family…."

"Spill it, Granger. I am all ears." ' _He really looks interested. That's rare.'_

"You remember that you told me about the Statute of Secrecy and how your family limited their marriages to purebloods after that?" Hermione started.

"Mh, yes, of course."

"Well, it's not only that. They married and procreated in a very limited circle; the Fawleys, the Carrows, the Selwyns, the Blacks… do these names ring a bell?" She observed Malfoy's expressions, expectant, while pointing on the names on the family tree she had scribbled on a parchment from memory.

"Holy hippogriff! They all belong to the Sacred Twenty-Eight! Every single one!" Draco gasped.

 _'_ _He really is intelligent. Makes him even more attractive.'_

"100 points to Slytherin. But that took me only some minutes to confirm. What I haven't been able to grasp yet is the mechanism behind that."

"Why should there be a specific reason behind that? After all, that is a pretty exclusive group of wizarding families." One could nearly hear Malfoy thinking about that.

Hermione giggled now, exhilarated at the joy of sharing her discoveries. "Exactly. The question is, why did the restraint start in the 17th century, when the Sacred Twenty-Eight were firstly mentioned by Salazar Slytherin himself in the 11th century? And, the more important mystery is, why did the limitation last so long?"

"Okay, I am with you so far." Draco's nose scrunched cutely with concentration. _'Thanks heaven, finally a man who can concentrate on what I say.'_ "But why should the limitation be ended at some point?"

"That is the actual reason I had to study these." Hermione kindly answered, gesturing over to the pile of books which were named ' _Advanced Genetics'_ or ' _Challenge Evolution_ `. "Your family should have destroyed itself with that."

"That's not a very polite thing to say. I know, you have had some unfriendly meetings with my extended family, but…"

"I didn't mean it like that." She opened _`Challenge Evolution'_ and pointed out some charts.

"Every population carries traits that prove themselves as disastrous when expressed. Normally, the genetic mixture balances that out in a big population. When a small population, such as the Sacred Twenty-Eight, simply breeds within its limitations, those bad traits become a problem. They reduce the fitness of each member and it gets worse with time, because the negative characteristics increase dramatically. That means most individuals carry the problematic characteristics after some time. It is called inbreed-depression. And after such a long time - three centuries - there should be so many destructive traits in the population that it can't survive."

Malfoy breathed in sharply. "Okay. Overall you say that there is something, something having to do with limited partners and… genes…. that should have extinguished the Sacred Twenty-Eight-families, but somehow it didn't… right?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "Right a 100%. To research that in an adequate way, I have to get access to the family archives, and that could prove itself as a difficulty, considering I am no member of those families." Her face saddened a bit, not because she didn't belong to said pureblood families, but because those sources of ancient knowledge were closed for her. But Malfoy smirked at his perfect opportunity.

"Nothing easier than that. I will settle than for you. Nott, for example, still owes me. The others won't be a problem, either. Hmph!"

Hermione had impulsively thrown her arms around the taller man, encircling her arms around his neck, laughing relieved. "Oh, thank you, Malfoy!"

"Wait until you hear my price." He whispered lowly in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

 _'_ _Merlin. With this tone and that to win? Everything.'_

He leaned back and smiled mischievously at her. "Before you gain access to the Malfoy archives, you have to endure dinner with me. Is Wednesday okay?"

Hermione stood on her tiptoes, leaning in and whispered back conspiratorially "Knowledge is power. That is how we defeated Riddle. And I am willing to submit to that power if the situation calls for it."

She pecked him softly on the cheek.

"Thanks again, Malfoy. Wednesday is great. Owl me a time and place." Then Hermione stepped back from the bewildered man, turned around and left the library, an elated swing in her steps.

 _'_ _Gryffindor's pants, what to wear for a date with Draco Malfoy?_ _Ginny. I need Ginny.'_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I didn't mean to update so fast, but somehow... the result of this humid day turned out with more fluff and less plot than I intended. Hope you like it, though!**

 **Special thanks to my beta MrBenzedrine, who in contrast to me, is the Queen of punctuation and reminded me that there is indeed a different between AmE and BE. Further thanks to Slytherinvillian7 (go Diving!), Sam Wallflower (for the greatest compliment; being German is not really cool...) and writerspassion18 (she wanted bed sheets...). Of course I wholeheartedly thank everyone who reads, reviews and follows my story, you guys are awesome!**

 **Disclaimer: Everything you might recognize isn't mine. And I make no profit with this.**

"Okay, Hermione, did I get it right: Draco Malfoy asked you for a date, and in exchange you gain access to the family archives of important pureblood dynasties?" Ginny was a bit slow on the uptake this afternoon when they went shopping in Diagon Alley.

"Yeah. But that is exactly the direction you pushed me to, isn't it? You even told me what to wear to retrieve my heels… why is it remarkable now?" Hermione rummaged through various dresses in the boutique.

"It is remarkable because you followed my suggestions, Missy. Meaning: _You_ wanted it, too. I can't blame you, though. He is such a hottie!"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Ginny! You are married and expecting! And happily so, I hope!"

"Utterly happy, I might add! It's just that this pregnancy makes me quite…. amorous," the red-haired witch confessed.

"I'd rather say horny. I'm surprised Harry can cope with that!"

"Oh, he has to. Like three times a day…" Both women burst out laughing. Holding a blue dress up, Hermione asked, "What about this one, Mrs. Shopping-Queen?"

Ginny disapproved, "No, this colouring doesn't do it for you. And you are no blushing virgin. Your outfit should be a bit more daring, and this one is too well-behaved." The witch checked some more dresses, then smiled, triumphant.

"This is it!" She threw an emerald dress in Hermione's direction. "Did you pick the Slytherin colour on purpose?" Hermione asked.

"Yep. I hope he will be so irritated about it that he strips you of it very fast…"

Eyes rolling, Hermione tried the dress on. She was astonished how perfectly the sleeveless dress fitted her. In fact, she thought herself quite beautiful in it. She stepped out of the changing room and twirled in front of her friend, the soft and light material ending shortly over her knees. The fact that it left her back nearly bare and had a low cut neckline made Hermione feel like a femme fatale. And she liked that feeling very much.

"What did I tell you? It's perfect!" Ginny grinned.

"It is, but…," suddenly Hermione was reluctant. "Don't you think it sends the wrong message? I mean, this is not my usual self, wearing a dress this sexy and all…"

Instantly, Ginny started crying.

' _This is mood-change number 19 today. And she is so difficult to pacify when in tears. Where is the Iceman when you need it?'_

Hugging Hermione, Ginny sobbed, "Herms, this _is_ your usual self, without Ron voicing his worthless opinion. You are gorgeous, it's time to show it to the world. Or one blonde wizard in particular."

Hermione hugged back, thankful. Sometimes all it takes to boost your consciousness is a good friend. "Thank you, Ginny. I didn't even know that I needed that. But I am a bit insecure, you know? He is very smart, and charming, and he has those grey eyes and a voice that melts me inside when he's talking about history…"

"You really like him, don't you?"

"We may have met again only twice, but I suppose…" Hermione whispered. If only her sixth-year-self could see her now; excited and nervous for a meeting with Draco Malfoy. One that didn't necessarily involve wandwork and slaps. That girl would declare her insane and helped her to hospitalization.

Ginny had stopped crying now and encouraged her friend. "That is good for you. Relax and see where the evening takes you two, don't get your knickers in a twist by overthinking everything. Speaking of underwear: In this dress..." Ginny started, hands gesturing to the open back and the snug-fitting material on her bum.

' _Oh, joy! Judging by that expression in her eyes, horny Ginny is back with full force.'_

"...You won't need it."

-DHDHDHDHDH-

"Always on time, aren't you?" Draco said aloud when Granger arrived in front of the expensive restaurant he had picked. Inwardly, his thoughts were elsewhere.

' _Bloody hell! She is drop dead beautiful! How to compliment such a fairy?'_ Sadly, the less-mannered and dick-controlled part of him recovered first.

"Slytherin green? This dress will blend perfectly with my bed sheets this night!" He wriggled his eyebrows in an overly suggestive manner.

Granger started to laugh loudly at that. Thankfully.

"Forgive me, Hermione, you're looking stunning." He pressed a kiss on her hand.

' _Welcome back, intellectual and mannered brain. You're late.'_

Draco opened the door for her, and that served him the opportunity to admire her backside. Where one could see much skin and no indications of elastics from underwear. The implications of that made his dress pants uncomfortably tight.

' _Pull yourself together, buddy! You are not sixteen anymore! She said something to you, didn't she? So: Answer!'_

"Pardon? I was distracted."

"I noted you called me 'Hermione'. That was probably the second time you did that, I like it though. -So much in fact, that I reciprocate the gesture, Draco." Granger- no, _Hermione_ \- smiled endearingly.

' _Better get used to the name you will scream in pleasure, princess – Stop! Don't say that aloud, she is an educated lady, after all! Breathe in, breathe out, pause, repeat… all better now.'_

Once the waiter showed them to their table and Draco had Hermione seated, and then himself, they fell into an easy conversation. Their harmless topics reached from Ministry Business, to what books they read, to holiday destinations they had visited and slowly turned to more personal matters.

When they were well into the main course – _coq au vin_ for her, salmon for him, all completed with a dry white wine -Hermione asked, seemingly out of nowhere, "So, Draco, still playing Quidditch?"

"Yes, quite regularly. On Sunday afternoons I usually meet with Blaise, Theo and some guys from work and we have a game or two. But I thought you weren't interested in Quidditch?" He tilted his head, questioning, taking his Hogwarts memories into consideration.

"Not in playing myself. But I always enjoyed _watching_." She winked. She _winked_! ' _That woman will be the death of me, I swear.'_

They made it through dessert animatedly talking and nearly unharmed, except for the moment when Draco observed that Hermione blushed at the sight of him licking a bit of chocolate mousse from his thumb. ' _Now we're even.'_

When they left the restaurant after Draco had paid – not without Hermione voicing her protest, one might add -"This is the 21th century, that means I can pay on my own!" and a subsequent -"That means I can spoil you if I feel like it, princess!" from the former Slytherin – he felt… calm. Relaxed. Happy. For the first time in years, he had a wonderful date with a brilliant and more than skilled witch without the desire to fulfil either his parent's expectations or primarily his own physical needs. He had enjoyed an elating, funny and jaunty evening so far.

They walked to the apparition point side by side, arms and hands accidentally touching from time to time as Hermione turned to Draco, locking her amber eyes with his.

"Can I consider my debts cleared, Mr. Malfoy, and start with your humble family's documentations tomorrow?" She stood quite close now, so close in fact that he could take in her unique scent.

' _It's now or never, buddy! Go for it, but take it slow.'_ For the second time this evening, Draco gave in.

He traced his thumb over her right cheek, causing goosebumps on her arms he observed.

"Not before…" With that, he palmed her face with both hands and pulled her close. Then, slowly, oh so slowly, he pressed a soft kiss on her lips, relishing in the blissed expression on her face when he pulled away.

' _That is the perfect note to end this evening on, isn't it?'_

But Hermione obviously had decided otherwise, for she opened her eyes, smiled like a cat who got the cream, and pulled him in for another kiss.

This one was more forceful, less tentative than the first. It made Draco's knees shake in anticipation when she traced her tongue over his lips, begging for entrance. He opened his lips, searching for her tongue with his, teasing, not yet battling for dominance. He encircled her waist with his arms, his hands reaching for the curls that fell over her back, and felt her hands playing with the soft hair on his neck.

When he heard a noise from Hermione that could be considered as a sigh or a moan, Draco stopped his kissing, barely lucid. But he wanted to do this the right way, which was a first for him.

"Hermione, wait. -Are you sure? I mean, I would be perfectly fine if we ended here and then, on another opportunity in the future…." It was hard for him to concentrate on forming this sentence, because all the while Hermione's hands glided over his arms and shoulders, ending with her fingertips playing with his trousers' waistband. His most physical part applauded to that, making himself aware and stirring slowly.

"And _I_ would be perfectly fine when you'd take up on your earlier offer and show me how good this dress blends in with your bedsheets…"

The last words caused his control to snap.

He bent, grabbed Hermione's waist, and threw her over his shoulder, not bothering to care for going all caveman on her or the amused glances of the other wizards and witches frequenting Diagon Alley. He could only concentrate on her laughs, pleasantly ringing in his ears, and her light weight on his shoulders when he carried her to the apparition point.

And her firm bottom under his hands.

' _Definitely no knickers. Sweet Salazar.'_

 **P.S.: There seems to be a problem with the recent reviews at the moment, as the aren't visible somehow (for most stories), but the reach me over my mobile and get counted... *shrugs***


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: After the PERFECT smut in my beta MrBenzedrine's Sex Ed ch. 15, it is now my time to make a humble attempt at it. It made me blush that she approved! Thanks again to all the readers, reviewers and followers! I am really curious for your feedback on this one... I am totally nervous about publishing it!  
Personal thanks to: Sam Wallflower (PM'd you), pgoodrichboggs (see the bed sheets getting used), dramione101 (later...), Slytherinvillian7 (want a PM about that reading :)), Sazzzzzle (totally bla bla to that, I'm with you, here) and Chester99 (read and you will see)**

 **Disclaimer: Not mine. No money...**

"A Song of Ice and Fire"- Ironically it was this book title that came up in Hermione's dazed brain after Draco had set her gently on her feet after apparating to his bedroom. She didn't even like the books, but the title had stuck and described exactly what she felt at the moment. Draco played her body like a pianist commanding his favourite grand piano, eliciting sounds of absolute bliss. With his eyes that now shone like snowflakes kissed by the sun, he ignited a fire deep within her that spread through her body fast. And all they did so far was heavy snogging…

With a start Hermione realised that _this_ – whatever it was between her and Draco – was v _ery_ much real. And that she wouldn't suddenly wake up from an arousing dream to a snoring Ron beside her, in a small cottage with two kids with ridiculous names. This epiphany made her smile.

"This is… _more_ , Draco, isn't it? More than a one-night-stand? More than another notch on your bedpost?" She looked him straight into his grey eyes as his hands travelled slowly over her shoulder blades, caressing the bare skin on her back, coming to rest on her bum and squeezing it lightly.

"It'd better be, Hermione." He hissed out a breath when her hands slowly found their way to his belt buckle and opened it. Before she could open his fly, however, he gently gripped her wrists, stopping her. "Because it would make me angry as hell when the woman who arouses not only my body," he guided her hands to the unmistakable erection that had built in his trousers, moaning deeply when she cupped it, "But my brain equally left my bedroom for a second time without getting what we both deserve." With that he laid her hands on both her cheeks.

"Impressive, Draco. A Slytherin seduction tactic, subsection brainy girls?" Hermione playfully winked at him- as for her, intimacy and humour complemented each other. Again, on the same wavelength with the witch, Draco grinned, laying her gently on her back, where she could feel the smooth cool of the indeed emerald bed sheets.

' _Laying back on the bed? When did that happen? Memory lapse?'_

Not breaking the eye contact, he pushed her dress gently higher over her bent knees until it pooled at her waist. "No. It is a newly approved Draco Malfoy invention: Telling the truth provides a wonderful distraction."

She had no time to process his words, because he started to press little kisses on her legs, down to her feet, where he carefully removed her heels, first the left, and then the right. That accomplished, he got up and impatiently got rid of his trousers and shirt, which left him standing in his black silk boxers. Hermione leaned on her elbows, taking in the sight in front of her; his perfectly muscled shoulders and arms, the chiselled chest, the trail of bright blond hairs starting below his navel and disappearing beneath the waistband of his boxers. The prominent bulge in them made Hermione blush.

' _No wonder women throw themselves at him. Charlie was already a sight to behold, but this specimen is the epitome of mouth-watering.'_ She noticed that her lady bits _also_ appreciated the sight very much, because wetness pooled between her thighs and demanded attention.

"See something you like, witch?" He teased.

Hermione decided it was time to turn the tables a bit. She moved on all fours until she was right in front of him. For a moment she hesitated, then the lioness in her took charge and she hooked her fingers into his boxers, pulling them down. Draco's breathing hitched when she paid attention to his freed and erected cock.

"You know I'm a scientist, don't you?"

A breathless, "Mhhh," was her answer when she placed kisses from the base of his length to the tip.

"And as a scientist I have to test a thesis before I can validate or neglect it, don't you agree?" Now her only answer was a throaty moan. She took his penis into her mouth, captured it with slightly pressure from her lips, enjoying the girth of it. Then she let it slide from her mouth, swirled her tongue around the tip and gave it a little kiss there.

"So without intensive testing I can't answer your question. Though I get a feeling deep down..." she leaned back on her knees, legs spread, and her hands trailed from her thighs to her wet center, giving her clit a tiny stroke. That not only caused her, but also Draco, to moan at the erotic display. "...that I like it very much."

He gulped and shrugged his shoulders as to clear his head. She noticed his eyes were clouded with lust now, causing his grey to darken. "And as a good little scientist you came prepared, to avoid… consequences of your testing? Such as multiplying the lady scientist?" She nodded. Of course she had cast a charm to prevent illnesses or pregnancies. She had calculated with this outcome of the evening, otherwise she would have thought of panties, at least.

Now it was Draco's turn to advance her like a predator his prey. He grabbed her dress and pulled it over her head. Then he slowly kneeled down in front of his bed, placed his hands next to her legs on both sides and started to trace his wet tongue over the inner side of her left thigh, just to stop before he reached her labia. He blew a hot breath over them, without touching. Hermione thought she would die of agitation, then. Draco proceeded with the same action on the other thigh, but this time he dipped low and circled her clit with a precise movement of his tongue. Hermione groaned, one of her hands resting on his soft blond hairs, applying slight pressure to encourage his ministrations. Apparently Draco had other plans. He tutted, "Eager, aren't we?"

Hermione summoned her last remaining brain cells. "Gods, Draco, don't tease!"

He gave an irresistible smirk from between her legs. "Your wish is my command." With that he eased her back on the bed, cradling her in his arms, positioning himself between her legs. Hermione could feel every inch of his cock now, hot and heavy rubbing over her nether lips. That encouraged even more wetness to pool, and caused his length to moisten with her slickness. One hand on her neck, he kissed her passionately. She didn't have the patience to wait anymore. "Please, Draco…" She moaned between kisses. "I want you now. I need you." He obliged, using one hand to position himself at her entrance. He stopped kissing her, again looking deeply into her eyes. After he had found what he was waiting for - a conformation, a reassurance, Hermione didn't know – he slid his hard cock into her core.

Both closed their eyes at their ultimate connection; him fighting for his self-control, her relishing at the utterly complete feeling he gave her. Never, in her numerous shags with Ron, had she felt like this. So relaxed and tensed at the same time. So… _right._

He started moving, out and barely staying in her, then in again, burying himself in her to the hilt. He sat a slow pace, as if losing something when going faster. But Hermione _wanted_ to lose herself in him. To encourage him, she rolled her hips, grinding experimentally against his pelvis. His sharp intake of breath showed her that he liked it.

On an impulse, she locked her legs around him, pulling him even deeper into her. He moaned.

"Shit, Hermione, you're effectively destroying my last restraint," he breathed. "Do that again and I _will_ lose control." She pulled again with her legs, with even more force.

"Please, don't let me stop you."

He growled and started pounding into her, the muscles in his whole body working to exertion. His moans mixed with hers, their tongues intertwined in fiery kisses and still they couldn't get enough from the other. He trailed kisses down her jaw, teasing her left nipple with one hand, flicking it between his thumb and index finger. "So, close, Draco… so close…." Hermione pleaded. He gave her a particular hard thrust from the slightly shifted angle, what made her sigh wantonly.

"That's it, princess. Come for me, will you?" One, two more of his delicious thrusts and Hermione fell off the proverbial cliff, emitting a blissful, moaning, "Yessss." She felt the muscles in her womb clench heavily around his luscious cock. Nearing his own completion rapidly, Draco kissed her, pouring his entire passion into it. Some deep, powerful movements of him later, he released into her, a low groan resonating in his throat that Hermione immediately declared addictive.

All the sexual tension was gone all of a sudden. Draco pulled his flaccid member out of her dripping centre and lay down on his side, both catching their breath. She turned to him, his normally pale complexion flushed. He grinned, relaxed, but with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Did the testing let you reach a judgment?"

She yawned, suddenly tired, but smiled. "Mh, not yet. Might take further runs."

She turned her back to him, snuggling closer. His strong arms came naturally around her, his lips kissing her neck softly.

"I am more than happy to assist you, Hermione." With his low timbre in her ears and his scent all around her, Hermione sank into a deep and peaceful sleep.

-DHDHDHDHDHDHDH-

When his Mother and Astoria lost themselves in meaningless conversation at tea time the following day, Draco's thoughts were elsewhere with a brown-haired, smart witch more precisely, and their continued 'testing' in the morning. After waking up cuddling. In the shower. And after breakfast. He smiled at the fond memories.

"See, Astoria, Draco shares my opinion here. Don't you, dear?" His Mother's voice roughly pulled him out of his reverie. He nodded his indication to whatever or whomever.

When he had arrived at the Manor earlier he hadn't had the opportunity to talk with his Mother about the senselessness of the tea with Astoria. Draco had been much in his nearly thirty years of life: A school boy, a spoiled child, a Death Eater, a fighter, a Ministry Worker, a Playboy. But never a cheater. And as he was absolutely sure that he wanted to broaden and deepen the thing he had with Hermione – they hadn't talked about a label, yet – he needed a reasonable chance to let Astoria and her expectations down gently. That again meant, he had to inform his meddling Mother. But he really didn't want this talk with both ladies at once. Thus, he had to be a man and endure the tea time.

Astoria had behaved as expected from her so far: Polite, talkative, interested.

Though, when a knock on the dining room indicated a visitor, he raised his head expectantly. Throwing him a winning smile, Hermione stepped in, still in her Ministry's robes.

"Miss Granger, I am very elated to welcome you back." His Mother extended a hand, which Hermione shook. "Draco told us that you would come back today for research in the family archives." His witch greeted Astoria with a polite smile.

"Thank you for giving me access to this valuable sources. I feel honoured to work with them and wanted to thank you and your family for this opportunity."

' _Oh and what sacrifices she had to make for this access. Brave little princess.'_

"I am afraid that because of the organisation system and some special wards, you will need Draco's help to really plunge into the matter."

' _Sounds promising… above all the plunging into the matter part.'_

"I am glad to help, Mother. It is a very fascinating project our Miss Granger here provides our society with, and I desire to assist her as much as I can. I am going to accompany her to the library. Didn't you want to show Astoria your wonderful garden anyway?"

"You are absolutely right. I wanted to show her the lilies, they are blooming so beautifully at the moment!" She clasped her hands at that.

Closing the dining room behind him, he heard Hermione giggle hard beside him.

"Merlin, Draco. Do you know that lilies are a symbol for fertility?" He gulped. "Your Mother really wants you to tie the knot with Astoria, doesn't she?" Of course Draco had told Hermione about his Mother's plans. They had her nearly spill her coffee in mirth.

"Where are we going to start, Miss Research?" asked Draco when they arrived in one of his favourite rooms at the Manor, the library.

Grinning from ear to ear, eyes lit up like a Christmas tree in the Great Hall, Hermione took the room in: The wooden shelves nearly kissing the high ceiling, full of books. There were hundreds of rows of them and a circular table in the middle, in front of a sizzling fireplace.

"We will start with Lucius and his dark secrets."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: The plot thickens a bit here. I like history, so - yeah, hope you too. The bits about the Sacred Twenty-Eight and the Malfoy family can be found on pottermore, I tweaked them just a little bit. And I know I'm repeating myself bere, but the biggest Thank you goes to my beta MrBenzedrine - she found the bunny and cuddled with Lucius, which was a first for her :). Further thanks to all the reviewers out there: Slytherinvillian7 (public check ;) and PM); Sazzzzzle (hopefully I will reach the freezer-stage in the future), Sam Wallflower (soooo happy I made you blush), pgoodrichboggs (you got the piano reference before I did, but then I laughed hard about it), Chester99 (oh, you gotta read the chapter), Gunnhildde (thank you!), Emma3mikan, DoIReallyHaveToPickOneRN. To AnnagrammaPlum: If this wasn't fanfiction, I'd agree with you, but - it is! And Hermione simply had to test a thesis. 100 follower and sooo many Readers: You make my summer!**

 ** _Disclaimer: Not mine. No Profit._**

" _We will start with Lucius and his dark secrets."_

"What is it what you expect to discover about my father's past that you don't already know? That he was all but a slave to a leader of a crazy racist organisation? That his recently re-acquired patronus is a bunny? Or do you expect a note in a diary that states he keeps a village of virgin muggles at his bidding?" Draco was only half-joking now. The less than shiny past he partly shared with his father was often a touchy subject for him.

Though, Hermione couldn't help to laugh. "Your father's patronus is a bunny? Never thought I'd learn about his fluffy and sweet sides!"

Draco scowled. "Honestly now, what do you expect to find?"

"You git! You assumed it was your father I was talking about? I meant his namesake Lucius the first. that was a contemporary of Queen Elizabeth the first. His name rang a bell when we were looking at the tree, and I searched for him in the history books," Hermione said, decidedly ignoring her - ' _Boyfriend's? Lover's?'_ – quips.

She continued to present him her findings, "As you surely knew, many historians allege that your ancestor was an unsuccessful aspirant for becoming the Queen's husband. They assume that she turned him down and as a result. The disappointed Lucius placed a jinx on the Queen, who had a strange opposition to marriage from then on."

"Of course I knew that, but I am convinced that this is all historical porridge," Draco boasted.

"Is that so? Any evidence?" the always studious bookworm asked.

' _Probably, the private records are more detailed. Why does he smile like that?'_ Hermione thought.

"Plenty. The best being that it is unheard of a Malfoy getting dumped by a woman…" with that he sneaked his arms around her and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. And a second one. The third came with more pressure. The fourth had Hermione's teeth nibbling on his lip. The fifth had them both panting.

"Okay, Mr. Malfoy, behave now. We won't get any research done when you're doing this," Hermione breathed, semi-controlled. Draco pouted adoringly. "Oh, don't do those puppy-eyes at me! Be a good boy and help me going through Lucius' private records." She got on her toes, hands on Draco's shoulders and whispered - a tad more seductively than she previously intended - into his ears, "And when we come to a worthy conclusion, you might get a reward…" She was pleased to see him shiver at her words before she turned to the numerous shelves. Draco sighed heavily and started to explain the system the library was organized by, which books she'd better not touch and how to summon certain tomes from the top.

After one and a half hours of working on the extensive private documentation of Draco's ancestor, Hermione was more than convinced that, given he hadn't been such a prejudiced bastard at Hogwarts, she and Draco had made an invincible team. Supposedly, the whole duelling and terrorizing thing would have been shortened considerably; then again, that had been the reason for him being the idiot that he was back fifteen years ago.

"Hermione?" His quiet library-voice got said witch looking up.

"I think I found something…. It seems the jinx Lucius placed on good ol' Lizzy wasn't the only big one he cast at the time. This entry in 1555 here says ' _one spell to apply my revenge and one to right the mistakes of the insipid behaviour the sacred families recently showed'_."

Hermione contemplated what he said. "The 'revenge' he wrote about obviously means his hurt ego acting out on Elizabeth. He was really bitter and disappointed about being thwarted, that's for sure. His temper is all around in his entries."

Deep in thoughts, she proceeded, "And this 'insipid behaviour'…." She rummaged through the parchments on the table, fishing for the Malfoy tree. She scanned the sketch briefly. "That's it! The limitation of the Sacred Twenty-Eight started with Lucius' marriage to Theodora Travers in the May of 1556, followed by the birth of his son Primus in February 1557. That baby came quite soon, didn't it?" Hermione's face glowed with delight.

"Mhhh, the Malfoys have a history of eager procreation – don't ask me how I know that." Draco had a little flashback to a certain grand piano.

"Draco, this means Lucius or someone close to him had created a spell, or more of a curse, that altered the behaviour of twenty-eight pureblood families! The magic acts a bit like a parasite, which can influence his host's brain chemistry, and thus, his behaviour. Because of this effect the families refused marriages outside of their group, effectively isolating their genepool from the rest of the wizarding community or even muggles."

"So, we have reached a conclusion?" Draco's voice was hopeful.

"We are one step closer at solving the whole mystery. I have to cross-check these results with the other family records, and it isn't yet explained why the wizarding elite hasn't gone all 'Bella-bonkers'-but yes, we have reached a little conclusion." With that, Hermione got up from her chair and walked over to Draco's, turning it so she was in front of him.

"Did you realise that before the written tradition started, there was an older, well-elaborated form of tradition that exists even today?"

Draco didn't answer, he was too distracted by Hermione's actions. The witch kneeled down between his legs, hands on his hips, carefully inching to his fly.

"We scientists call that 'oral tradition'."

She slowly opened his trousers, pulling them and his underwear so far down that she could free his cock, which was more than half hard already; and fully hard after some teasing strokes and a kiss on both of his balls. Draco gave one of those deep moans Hermione had termed addictive the evening before.

' _Godric, I really love to have this effect on him. Makes me feel desired – and keen for a reciprocation,'_ Hermione thought before she sucked with devotion.

Draco didn't think much the following minutes...

-DHDHDHDHDHDHDH-

Like his son, Lucius considered the library as one of his favourite rooms in the manor. That was why, after long hours in his study, he advanced in its direction. He simply wanted to avoid the dining room, where his wife and Astoria Greengrass probably still sat.

He already had the door opened a crack when he heard noises coming out of his beloved library.

' _Strange noises. That very nearly sounds like - moans?'_ Seized by naughty curiosity, he threw a quick peek around the door and retreated immediately.

All he could identify in the short moment was his son's head, thrown back on the back of a chair, eyes closed in ecstasy. And a glimpse of dark hair belonging to the witch who went down on Draco.

Lucius, now walking towards the dining room, had to stifle a chuckle.

' _Seems that he is already enjoying himself with Astoria, good for him. I have to reward Cissy for her good choice of a daughter-in-law. Perhaps we can engage in equally joyous activities, while Draco is occupied with Astoria? I wonder-'_

Lucius stopped dead in his tracks. His brain tried to process the sight before him.

He saw Astoria Greengrass, just disappearing in the green flames, his wife waving at her.

' _While Astoria was here – who is the woman quite literally blowing my son's sense of responsibility away? And he seemed to be quite a willing participant.'_

"Lucius, is everything okay? You look a bit pale." His wife gave him a kiss on the cheeks.

"Nothing, Narcissa, I simply had some family business to ponder about." Lucius answered.

"You overwork yourself sometimes. Why don't we visit Draco and Miss Granger in the library to catch up with her project?" Narcissa asked, completely oblivious, of course.

"No!" Lucius countered, a bit too fast.

"No? Why shouldn't we? Aside of her blood status, the girl is quite talented."

' _Bet Draco has the same thoughts when he can think clearly again,'_ Lucius thought on his wife's question; he said aloud, "Because you were right, Cissy, I have been overworking myself this afternoon. Why don't we lay down for a nap before dinner? I am sure Draco can handle Miss Granger very well on his own."

-DHDHDHDHDHDH-

When Draco entered the dining room at dinner time, humming to himself, he wanted to tell his parents about his dislike of engaging in a relationship with Astoria, considering recent developments that included the female third of the Golden Trio.

"Good evening, son." His father greeted him. That made him suspicious, because he had seen his parents just five minutes ago when he had accompanied Hermione to the floo.

"Miss Granger has left?" The older man asked.

"Yes, Father, you saw her leaving for that shack of a Weasley-home. She's having dinner there." Draco answered, starting to get irritated.

"Have you had an _interesting_ afternoon in the library, Draco?"

' _Shit.'_ Draco thought.

"Perhaps it would be the best if you told your mother about the _intensity_ of your session with the famous witch?" His father prodded on.

His mother, on the other side, proved that she was a true Slytherin by thinking quickly.

"Draco! You had an intimate encounter with Hermione Granger in our library while Astoria, the woman you are intended to marry, was here?"

' _She hit the nail on the head. May as well get over with it.'_

Draco counted to three in his head – in English, French, Latin, Ancient Greek and Goblin – and confessed "Yes, Mother. And that wasn't even the first time. We kind of have a relationship."

"How could you! You sully our ancestry with her blood!" Narcissa shouted.

' _Woha! That is a bit much. I expected her to whine and prod, but this?'_ He now stood face-to-face with his angry mother.

"I honestly thought you left all these unholy thoughts behind you, Mother! You don't even know Hermione properly." Draco had raised his voice now.

"It's you that doesn't understand. She isn't Astoria. She doesn't come from an appropriate family. She may be fairly intelligent and pretty, and she has a more than good reputation, but-" Narcissa started.

"-No buts! You are right! She is all that and much more! She simply clicks with me, and this is why I chose her and not Astoria for a future with me!" After he had shouted that out, Draco realized that he meant every word of it. After a few intense encounters with Hermione, Draco couldn't imagine a future without her.

"You can chose all you want, but you are wrong! With her, you destroy hundreds of years of pure legacy! This simply isn't right!" With an angry bout of magic in her son's direction that nearly scorched his eyebrows, Narcissa left the room.

Draco was shocked by his mother's untypical behaviour. As a member of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black she always was a traditionalist, but this had been more than insisting on some silly traditions.

Even his father looked surprised at his wife's outburst.

"Don't ask me, Draco. I have no idea what caused this rant. I expected an amusing banter upon your declaration. I even prepared some advice in handling intelligent and pretty wives, no matter their blood status…"

"You did? Really? You approve of my involvement with Hermione?" He expectantly asked his father, slightly surprised.

"Yes Draco. As hard as it is to admit, the whole Death Eater-fiasco and the ugly aftermath has taught me that magic and love are powers not to mess with." Lucius had spoken silently.

"You are growing soft on your old days, aren't you?" Draco chuckled, despite the earlier confrontation with his mother.

"I'm hardly old!"

Both men laughed at their usual banter.. Though, Draco decided he had to talk about his mother's strange behaviour. He recalled something about influenced behaviour his witch had told him about before she had given him an impressive display of 'oral tradition'….

 **P.S.: Hope you liked it. Little spoiler here: Horny Ginny and angy Ron will be in the next chapter...**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Another chater! And again THANK YOU to MrBenzedrine - she does an awesome impression of Harry doing things not right and is still improving herself with every word she reads and writes! Simply brilliant! - and uploaded a brilliant chapter of How To Train Your Auror 2!** **Further thanks to: Slytherinvillian7 (let's party!), pgoodrichbloggs (crazy Blacks, indeed!), Sassystarbuck09 (later...), Chester99 (Yep- see to which one), HarryPGinnyW4eva (thank you for loving this!), Sam Wallflower (Iris, you wanted Ginny, you'll get her!), Sazzzzzle (I hope I'll get you on freezer stage!), and clarkfan325 (thanks).**

 **Disclaimer: The usual.**

Since her break-up with Ron, Hermione had only shown up at the Burrow when she was convinced that he wasn't there. On this Friday evening, however, she knew she'd have to face him because it was one of the rare occasions that the entire brood with their spouses and children met. Bill and Fleur with their daughter Victoire and baby Julie—' _Never thought even babies could bear this arrogant posture, but this one can'_ —even Charlie and Percy were there. Charlie turned a bit pink when Hermione asked him if the cool Dragon tattoo on his pectorals still had an eye missing from the scars the thorns had left.

After the usual Molly Weasley dinner—"Surely you need a second helping, Hermione, you don't eat enough!" followed by a desperate, "No, thank you, Molly, I've already had a second." And finally, "Well, here is the third."—the younger men indulged in a game of Quidditch, while Arthur stood by and smoked his pipe. The women sat at a large table in the garden, enjoying the warm evening and sipping on their lemonade. Hermione was aware that gender diversion sounded quite cliché, but the prospect of coping with the Weasley brothers, in addition to Harry, behaving nothing short of school boys wasn't an attractive one. Although she had to admit, a sweaty Charlie was quite yummy—Unfortunately for Ginny, she had been banned from playing with them.

Even more unfortunate, Ron had brought Lavender. Through dinner, Hermione was able to avoid her ex and _his two-brain-cells-with-one-constantly-on-vacation-girlfriend_ (Ginny's words, not Hermione's). Now, with considerably fewer people as a distraction, she wouldn't surely be so lucky.

For the moment, though, Lavender was occupied by gushing over Fleur's children. Julie immediately started to wail (the baby had taste, after all)—and that made Ginny charge for an interrogation.

"Okay Herms, I want to hear every single dirty detail of your date with Malfoy!" She started in with a whisper.

' _I wondered when horny Ginny would come out to play. And there she is,'_ Hermione thought, nonetheless thankful for her friend's care.

"It was good," she couldn't help but tease the red-head.

"Good? It was only _good_? Honey, the quickie I had with Harry behind the garden shack two hours ago was good!" Hermione snorted at that. "And it was only sub par because I'm starting to become a little limited in my movements. I expected your encounter to be earth-shattering!"

"It _was_ , Gin." Hermione retold the date and the following night in detail, sometimes interrupted by Ginny's comments, such as, "Missionary? Bit boring, but romantic," and, "Godric's pants, is he really a talker? That is so hot; Harry simply doesn't get it right!" or "Wonder why you're not totally sore down there after the lack of use in the last months—but well, he is _that_ good, isn't he?"

When Hermione had told her tale up to the point of her lesson in 'oral tradition' mere hours earlier, Ginny squealed, forgetting her environment. "You went down on the Slytherin Sex-God in his parent's library? That's priceless! Good girl!"

Hermione blushed furiously, and the women at the table, drawn into the conversation, fell silent. After some seconds of shock, George's wife Angelina started giggling, "Don't tell Georgie, but Draco Malfoy gave me the best oral sex of my life some years ago when I was single and met him at a Ministry's function." That had all women howling until they had tears in their eyes, except one.

"I am disappointed in you, Hermione, that after Ron had released you from your sorry excuse of a relationship, you had to stoop so low and have sex with a Malfoy!" That was Lavender, her voice hard.

And of course now was the perfect moment for the Quidditch-boys to make an appearance on stage, Ron being in the front, his fists already clenched and jaw set.

' _A Ron-temper is coming up. Popcorn, anyone?'_ Hermione prepared herself for a fight.

"Hermione, sweetie, give me your wand, yes? And don't hurt his family jewels too hard. I wanna have grandchildren from him one day," Molly Weasley gently urged and knew perfectly well that Hermione Granger could beat her youngest son by far in any duel.

"Is it true, 'Mione? You had sex with a Malfoy? Which one?"

"Firstly: Stuff that stupid nickname where the sun doesn't shine. I'm not a cat! Secondly: Which one, Ronald? You truly want to know? ALL of them! We had an orgy on Slytherin's grave- Lu, Cissy, Drake and me! Satisfied, Ronald?" Somehow Hermione had gotten up while shouting.

"It was just with Draco, but with him multiple times." Ginny supported her brother's thinking.

"How could you do that to me? He's still a filthy Death Eater!" Ron's face had an ugly shade of red now, which clashed terribly with his hair.

"HOW I COULD DO THAT TO YOU? Merlin! I can date, or have sex, with whomever I want! At least I have the decency to be monogamous! And Draco can keep his dick out of other witches when he is with me, so he is very different from YOU!" Hermione was very confident about the latter.

Molly gasped at the last piece of information. She had heard a slightly reduced story of what had occurred between Ron and Hermione, leaving the ugly parts out of it for the sake of her mother's heart.

"I had no choice; you neglected me!" Ron shouted. "You were always working! Lavender is at least genuinely interested in me!" The witch in question didn't get the hint that she was a practically described as a rebound.

"I saw that with my own eyes- they're _still_ burning! She was so interested, in fact, that you both forgot to lock the door! And don't you DARE insinuate that your sickening behaviour was MY fault!" They stood face-to-face now, Hermione's index poking Ron's chest with every word, supported by little electrical shocks. The audience retreated a few feet, not daring to interfere. Even Harry knew that all hope was lost for his best friend when he had been so stupid as to pick on his other best friend.

"What are you expecting from this thing you have with HIM? That you will live happily ever after in the big manor with a bunch of platinum-haired children with grey eyes?"

"Maybe, Ron! You certainly threw _your_ chance out of the window that I'll have red-haired and blue-eyed children with YOU, you selfish idiot!" With the last shout, Hermione interrupted her rant and looked at the people around her. Something had clicked in her brain.

' _Merlin, the Weasley children have all the same shade of red hair and blue eyes. ALL Malfoy offspring have grey eyes and that platinum-coloured hair, even in the 11_ _th_ _century… the Parkinsons all have this pug nose— and all three families are members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. That can't be a simple statistical coincidence!'_

"Sorry, Ron, we have to postpone this immature rant for another time. Thank you for the excellent meal, Molly, but I have to look something up in a book." With that said, Hermione took her wand from Molly's hands, leaving Ron to stand open-mouthed and the rest of the audience bewildered and apparated hastily.

The last thing she heard before dissolving was Ginny shouting, "Blimey, all the build-up and not even a decent climax!"

-DHDHDHDHDH-

"Repeat the last part, please," Draco asked, his voice husky.

"Uuuuh, what did you get so far?" It is hard to concentrate on a level-headed conversation for Hermione, the reason being Draco Malfoy biting her nipple gently.

"The Sacred Twenty-Eight all have certain characteristic traits that are passed on through the paternal line." He trailed kisses from her breasts down to the juncture of her legs.

"Yes, you—uh, you are right, ngh!" He had put the wicked tongue of his into use now, licking her hooded clit gently.

After a few wonderful moments, he paused. "You met with a geneticist at 's after an enlightening meeting with your _ex_ ," at the word 'ex' he slid two fingers into her with exquisite force, demonstrating an alluring level of dominance.

"And in your interview with the healer, you found out that there are most probably selfish genetic elements responsible for this." He used his thumb to stroke her clit, all the while moving his fingers in and out of her pussy.

Hermione moaned persistently now.

"Selfish genetic elements are transmitted at a higher rate than the rest of an individual's genome and are usually detrimental to the organism, correct?" After a delicious pat on her clit, Draco stopped his hands and grabbed Hermione by her hips and with a swift move, turning her around so that she was lying on her stomach.

"Later you had a nice chat with the Hogwarts Headmistress and a stint in the Founder's archives, where you confirmed, by an entry in a diary, that Salazar Slytherin…" He entered her from behind at the emphasis of 'Slytherin', "…Marked the Sacred Twenty-Eight as a reward for their loyalty." Two thrusts at 'reward'.

He had Hermione dripping wet and impatient now.

"And Salazar, in his ingenuity, unknowingly created selfish genetic elements with his marking that are not detrimental, but easy to recognize- as in the grey eyes and blonde hair of the Malfoys, yes?" At the next thrust, Hermione bucked her hips toward Draco, who groaned.

"Yes, Draco. And these selfish genetic elements protected the Sacred Twenty-Eight from the inbred depression because they were stronger than Lucius-the-first's curse!" It was the first time Hermione wished Draco had been less interested in her research. He ceased his moving, pressing her weight into the mattress and breathing hotly next to her ear.

"a huge discovery, my little scientist. That screams for a reward, doesn't it? Let's get selfish with ourselves." And—'Finally!'—he started fucking her in earnest.

The intellectual foreplay had them both so riled up, that it took Draco less than a minute to have Hermione screaming her orgasm. He followed shortly after.

Utterly spent, Hermione had gathered some intelligence back after a few moments, and added as an afterthought, "We're still missing bits and pieces of the whole thing. And I still have to cross-check the results with the other families. I received an owl from Daphne yesterday; she will welcome us at the Greengrass propriety on Monday."

"Will she now?" Draco was already half asleep, his head resting snugly on Hermione's breasts.

"Yes. And that sounds like the perfect opportunity for a chat with Astoria, don't you think?" She teased.

Draco wasn't that keen on this talk, but who was he to contradict the beautiful witch in his bed?

 **P.S.: Selfish genetic elements really exist, I didn't made that up. Probably won't be able to write/update tomorrow...**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Here is the next chapter! It works as a filler somehow. Thanks again to my slightly overworked beta MrBenzedrine (can you identify the added line?) who found time for me even when her day was insane! Thanks to all reviewers: Sam Wallflower (next chapter, Iris!), Slytherinvillian7 (love Molly, mostly), a Guest (put a Little summary in here, does it help?), ndavis17 (hehe), HarrPGinnyW4eva (Lavender? Maybe never...), clarkfan325 (he really deserved it!), HuffPride (Tataaa!), Chester99 (jup!) and Sazzzzzle (Brit me!).**

 **Disclaimer: Really?**

"Hermione! It's been too long since we met!" Daphne hugged Hermione enthusiastically when she stepped out of the fireplace in the Greengrass Manor.

"Daphne, you're looking good. I'm so sorry that I couldn't be at yours and Theo's wedding. My mother turned sixty that day."

Draco was a bit puzzled at the companionable greeting of the two witches when he followed Hermione out of the flames.

"I didn't know you two were so close, Her-Granger." Between the two of them, Hermione and Draco had decided that it would be wiser to avoid displays of affection before he had his 'chat' with Astoria.

Daphne kissed Draco on the cheeks and took his hands in hers. "We grew close in our last year at Hogwarts and still meet for a tea every month or so. What are you doing here? Playing the redeemed Ministry's watchdog for the muggleborn witch in the big dark pureblood manor?"

"Actually, I hoped to discuss some affairs with your sister while the Golden Girl here," he nodded his head to Hermione, "makes a dash into the good old days of your family's past."

' _You should have left the Golden Girl-part out. Sounds too nice. What became of the handy insults buck-teeth/insufferable know-it-all/mudblood?_ ' Some areas of Draco's brain still struggled to keep up with the recent developments- areas that had been proud to take the Dark Mark and to be a player in bat-shit-crazy-Tommy Riddle's power demonstration.

The bigger part of his personality, which was in the joyous process of falling hard for the witch, argued back, ' _They are outdated/she simply knows all, nothing to discuss/are you insane? I want to keep my balls. Now get your act together and show what a responsible man you are, there comes Astoria.'_

Whilst Draco had had his inner monologue, Hermione and Daphne headed for the library, where the private records of the Greengrasses and the Fawleys were kept. Seconds later Astoria entered, her pale green robes perfectly fitted, and her dark hair held back by a golden comb. "Draco, what a pleasant surprise to see you! Daph told me you were here, with Granger, to research in the archives."

' _Here with Granger, indeed.'_

She pecked him on the mouth, and Draco gently grabbed her hands before she could embrace him further.

"Yes—that was actually what I wanted to chat with you about."

"Narcissa told me about the interesting project for the Ministry. I'm very intrigued about it; can you tell me more?" The witch seemed genuinely interested.

"What I want to tell you more about, Astoria, is—us." Draco hesitated. In all his playboy experiences, the letting-her-down-phase was something he'd always hated. This was the main reason why he had often walked out on the witches, after he'd shagged them without further notice.

"Is this the part where you ask to start a formal courtship? Because, you know, I'm more than willing to incline." Astoria's blue eyes were looking at him hopefully.

A little, vicious voice in Draco's head decided to revolt, ' _She is very attractive, isn't she, mate? Are you really, really, really convinced that you shouldn't pursue a relationship with her, but instead with the other, less well-bred witch? I mean, she is a lioness in bed, but—'_

' _Shut up! I am surer about spending my future with Hermione than I've been about most things in my life!'_ Thankfully, Draco _did_ have a heart that could interfere with curious voices.

"This is the part where I tell you that there will be _no_ courtship." Astoria's eyes widened at that. "And this is the part where I tell you that I've fallen in love with Hermione Granger."

' _Phew, saying that aloud is liberating, isn't it?'_

The rejected woman, however, looked furious. "That'd better be the worst joke ever, Draco Lucius Malfoy!"

Draco flinched at the mentioning of his full name. "It's not. I know you had expectations concerning an engagement with me—"

"Expectations? You are bloody right! I expected us to get engaged, and married and, soon after that, providing our blood lines with an heir! And now you're rubbing that filthy, unworthy bitch under my nose?" A hot burst of uncontrolled magic hit Draco in the face; and that wasn't even the first time in a week he encountered such an ill temper. He still remembered his mother the previous Friday.

' _She's really flipping her shit now. What is it with pureblood women blowing up at me recently?'_

Desperately fishing for an answer that his mother would redeem as fitting, but also suitable for female company, Draco blinked when Astoria abruptly left the room. He followed, a bit worried for the precious books in the library. That's where he presumed the angry witch was heading for. Thanks to his longer legs, he entered the room nearly at the same time as Astoria.

Now, while Astoria always had been talented in certain aspects (Transfiguration and Arithmancy for example)—' _and hand-jobs'_ Draco suddenly remembered—she lacked the experience and skill of Hermione. Needless to say, the brown-eyed witch was a tad surprised to see a furious Astoria storming towards her, but that didn't stop her from disarming her opponent and simultaneously throwing up a shield-charm to protect the books in front of her. With a smooth flick of her wand, Hermione had Astoria bound to a nearby chair.

Foregoing Astoria's angry struggling against the ropes that stilled her, Draco asked with a proud smirk on his face, "Where's Daph? Didn't she want to assist you?"

"Seems not only the Malfoys are eager to procreate—she stormed away, severe wave of morning sickness." Hermione smiled back, unfazed.

' _Damn. I hate it when Mother is right. She could find work as a pregnancy test.'_ Draco thought.

After pale-faced Daphne came back, Hermione and Draco handed Astoria over to her sister. She was a bit put off with the discovery of the new relationship, but seemingly too nauseous to hex someone.

-DHDHDHDHDH-

Over the course of the next two weeks, Hermione and Draco visited nearly all of the remaining Sacred Twenty-Eight archives- those whose whereabouts were known, at least. The Crouches and the Shafiqs had died out, and the Rosier's and Carrow's properties had fallen victim to the all-consuming fiendfyre that the Aurors had applied after Tom Riddle's downfall, while their owners were rotting in Azkaban.

Twice, Draco had to pay the visits alone, because the Flints and Parkinsons didn't allow a witch with Hermione's background to enter their houses. Draco payed this behaviour back by calling in the million-Galleon-worth debts the families owed the Malfoys.

On other opportunities, Hermione researched on her own, because they didn't want Neville's grandmother to have a heart-attack, and Ollivander was better left in the dark upon Draco's involvement considering his last encounter with the Malfoys.

Hermione summarized the status of their research at the Potter's kitchen table. Draco sat next to her, just barely fidgeting at his current disposition. Hermione had persuaded him with the prospect of a 'special treat' to face the Head Auror (Potter) and his wife (she-Potter) for dinner. She had kicked him under the table a few times, but otherwise he had been remarkably civil - although not very talkative.

"Okay, to this moment, we know that Slytherin marked the Sacred Twenty-Eight as his loyal followers by providing each family with a characteristic trait; grey eyes, red hair, all things easily recognizable. The Shacklebolt records says that this was the original meaning of 'sacred'. With this marking, Salazar unknowingly created selfish genetic elements. They had such a strong effect that they partially overruled the magic Lucius the first acted upon the group centuries later. It was not enough to suppress the urge to marry and breed—eager and fast, I might add—within the limitations of those families, but sufficient to avoid inbred depression. In the long view, that guaranteed the existence of the Sacred Twenty-Eight as a whole."

"Sounds like some easy study lessons," Harry said, stroking his wife's swollen belly lovingly. With the other men's gesture, somewhere deep in Draco an urge awoke to feel his own child squirming and kicking in a woman's womb. A woman with striking beauty and intelligence—and brown curls. ' _Piano, Draco, piano.'_ he thought.

"It was quite fascinating! All the history!" Hermione enthusiastically answered.

"Magical, mh?" Draco supported, playing with hairs on her neck. She smiled at him, and for a minute they were in a world of their own. Harry interrupted the moment with a discreet cough.

"Will you close your half-official project now?" he asked.

"Obviously not. We still don't know how Lucius installed the curse. We assume that it is bound to an object of some kind. He may not have done this on his own. But clearly, the magic is so strong that it influences some person's behaviour in a very petty and effective way."

Upon Hermione's words, Draco thought about the fact that he soon had to inform his mother, and Astoria, that most probably this magic was the reason for their strange explosive behaviour towards his and Hermione's relationship. He wanted his prepared father in the same room for this, though. Some Aurors would be useful, too. Perhaps a little hint towards the remaining dark objects in the Parkinson or Flint Manor would make Potter lenient for his request? ' _Nah, this is Potter. Tickets for the next Chudley Cannons game will do. I'll save the dark objects for something BIG. Like an engagement.'_

"However, there is still the fact that there is _one_ family unaffected by the limitations—"

"It's us!" Ginny piped up and Harry was confused.

"You have a smart wife, Harry. Indeed, the magic has no effect on the Weasleys. Otherwise, neither Bill's children nor your constantly growing wonder in Ginny would be possible." Hermione explained. She had already wrecked her brain over the inconsistency and hoped that the meeting with Arthur in the next week would clear things up.

Ginny's increasing yawning indicated that she was dead tired, and that was why Draco and Hermione took off a little later. When the couple had arrived at Hermione's apartment, the witch instantly started to strip out of her clothes.

Draco was pleasantly surprised about that, particularly when she didn't stop with her coat, but also pulled off her blouse and skirt, and was in the process of unclasping her bra.

"Did I tell you that my bathroom is modelled after the prefect's bathroom at Hogwarts?" She looked at him seductively, causing his heartbeat to accelerate and his pants to tighten.

"Meaning?" he replied hoarsely.

"Meaning that there is an extension charm on the bathtub that I could demonstrate you." She wriggled out of her panties at that, now walking over to the bathroom stark naked. Standing next to the door, she turned around and winked at the now visibly aroused Draco.

"For all the holding back this evening—I think you are in for your special treat, Draco."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Can't believe we already made it to chapter 13! So this means it is the 13th thank you to MrBenzedrine (can someone draw a picture for her of a certain paragraph here?), I laugh like an idiot when she has updated her stories or comments on mine! Furthermore, this chapter contains a snippet for Sam Wallflower (hope you like it, Iris!), pgoodrichbloggs (who created Death Eater catwalks), Chester99 (you are very deep in the story, love that), writerspassion18 (LOL on you reviews!) and Slytherinvillian7 (it worked, didn't it?). Cheers to all the lovely people who read my story, you are awesome!**

 **Disclaimer: You know it.**

"Weasley passes the Quaffel to Weasley, on to Weasley—he dodges Zabini, and—score! 80 to 70 for Gryffindor!" Luna commented the Quidditch game on the field behind the Burrow.

"Malfoy and Potter are still searching for the Snitch. Be careful boys, it's new moon and the snitch could be infected with Wrackspurts!"

"From my perspective, Harry in actual Quidditch gear is alone worth listening to Luna's crazy comments." Ginny was clearly enjoying herself, sitting in a chair next to the field, rubbing her stomach, her eyes never leaving her husband's circling high up in the air.

It had been Ginny's idea to combine Hermione's and Draco's research in the Weasley archives with a remake of Slytherin versus Gryffindor, thinking it wouldn't be so awkward for Draco to visit her parent's home when he was accompanied by Blaise, Theo, and his usual Quidditch buddies in the beginning. And Draco had begrudgingly admitted that the redhead was right (only in front of Hermione, of course). Thankfully, Ron hadn't made an appearance at the Burrow this time.

It was seconds later into the game that Draco turned into a nosedive towards the earth. In the assumption that he had discovered the snitch, Harry followed. But Draco stopped his dive close to the garden fence and scooped up a little red-haired girl. The toddler squealed in delight, bouncing in the blonde's grip when Draco flew the short distance to the waiting women, leaving the amused Harry behind.

"Iris! What did you do this time?" Angelina scolded her three-year-old daughter.

"This little bug decided the game would be a perfect distraction to climb over the garden fence to bite the gnomes in the ears. I simply didn't deem this appropriate for a young lady." Draco mock-scolded and handed the giggling girl over to Angelina. She placed her daughter on the floor, and sent her running into her grandmother's direction with a slight nudge.

"Thank you, Draco. She's inherited her father's tendency to cause mischief. Iris is miles away from behaving like a young lady." Angelina eyed Draco up and down now, fully aware that Hermione was approaching. They earlier had decided to make a little fun of the former Slytherin.

"I must say Mr. Malfoy, it is borderline sinful for the more grown-up ladies to watch you attractive lot playing." She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively now, letting her eyes travel over Draco's muscled chest and gear-protected biceps.

"Angie, did you know that _oral tradition_ says it was part of the courting ritual, in the medieval times, for the male pureblood nobility to play Quidditch as a display of their virility, and have the ladies swooning at their feet?" Hermione explained, standing next to George's wife.

"Oh, _oral tradition_ says it? Interesting. I am convinced Draco here is an expert on those _oral traditions_ , isn't he?" The man in question paled. Should he have told Hermione that he once procured some intimate twenty minutes with Angelina? Not that he wanted to keep it quiet- he simply hadn't told her yet about every sexual contact he had enjoyed in his many playboy days.

"Why did that sound so knowing? Anything you want to tell me, Draco?" Hermione had difficulties to keep her gaze suspicious. After the scene of Draco gently handling Iris, the wizard's panicked and guilty expression was all she needed to break. "Relax, honey. Angelina told me about your encounter, it was years ago. You are forgiven." The two women laughed now, the sight of an embarrassed and flustered Malfoy was simply too endearing.

"You should pity Angelina, Hermione." Turning the tables, Draco swiftly pulled Hermione into an embrace, causing her to squeak in surprise. She sometimes forgot that he was much stronger than her.

"After all, she had just a short taste of the unrivalled Draco Malfoy. But you—" He dipped her low to the side, "—you have the whole package at your disposition for as long as you want." The following, barely-decent-for-the-public kiss was accompanied by a horde of wolf-whistles and cat-calls from above and the side. And for the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy gave a rat's arse for winning against Harry Potter.

-DHDHDHDHDHDH-

Molly took up the task to adopt Draco as one of her own—"He wasn't cuddled enough as a young child! This cold manor; and have you seen how stiff his parents are in public? Poor baby!"—and that was the reason she placed a heavy loaded plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of homemade lemonade next to him, not without ruffling his impeccable blonde hair. Draco didn't react to this, though he thought it felt—' _good?'_

Hermione, Arthur, and Draco sat at the spacious table where, normally, the family came together to eat. They had already worked themselves back to the days of Lucius the 1st with little result when Hermione gasped. "I think I've found something. Here, 1555, Herman Weasley: ' _I curse the day when I decided to follow my friend Lucius' bidding for help. He gets more and more extreme in his musings, and persuades or bribes our ancient circle to side with him. I will finish this project he is so eager to complete, but then I will be friends with him no more.'_

"It sounds as if we have finally found the reason for the long history of unfriendliness between the Malfoys and the Weasleys," Arthur contemplated, his pipe puffing out little clouds of smoke.

"Probably. But I think I have found something that adds to the previous entry." Draco flicked through the old diary in front of him. "Listen: ' _Lucius becomes more and more obsessed of Salazar Slytherin's idea of purity among the ancient circle, or dare I say: his own version of it? He revealed to me that the objects that I shall create will be used to bind a certain kind of magic to it. Magic that will keep us pure and to ourselves. I discussed it with Portius Potter today, and he supported me in my idea to relinquish an object for my own family. I will be no part of Lucius' whimsical plans to close the circle.'_ For Merlin's sake, I knew it: Our family tree is virtually a circle!"

Hermione made her 'I found a horcrux but you didn't'-face. Arthur recognized it and tried to keep up. "Did I understand this right? Herman created the objects that Lucius bound his crazy curse to; the ridiculous magic that made all Sacred Twenty-Eight families to mingle just with themselves? But because he disliked Lucius' idea of purity, he didn't make such an object for the Weasleys? The result being that my family could marry whomever they wanted?" Hermione nodded to that and Arthur continued, "What has it to do with Harry's ancestor, this Portius?"

Draco snorted at the name. The Scarhead- uh... Potter family seemed to have a tradition for giving their children silly names. Seriously, Harry sounded like a common pub-visitor, and Portius? ' _Pah! Septimus, Armand, and Scorpius, THOSE are strong names!'_

Hermione, unphased, explained, "The Potters are a very old pureblood family, Arthur, but they were not safely associated with the Sacred Twenty-Eight by historians, because they never sided clearly with Slytherin's ideas. And now that we know that being 'sacred' has something to do with selfish genetic elements it's even easier to prove: Harry is always told he has inherited his father's hair and his mother's eyes. In every case we could identify, hair and eye colour are combined to _one_ selfish element—blonde and grey: Malfoys; red and blue: Weasleys, for example. So, Harry doesn't bear such an element. Ergo: The Potters are no members of the circle. But we still have to find the mentioned objects in order to counter this nasty bit of ancient magic."

Draco couldn't help to show a wide, sunny smile. "Do you have any idea how sexy it is when you talk science and logic, princess?"

A do-we-need-to-have-a-'talk'-young-man?-stare from Arthur, a happy sigh from Molly from the background, and a happy giggle from Hermione told Draco that he had, indeed, said the last bit aloud. But his father had told him that making an honest compliment to a woman was never wrong and often pleasantly rewarded. Draco came to the realization that his father was right – once—when Hermione whispered into his ear, "Care to show me?"

 **P.S.: Mh, wonder where Hermine's line leads to *wink*?**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: So this is chapter 14! A big thank you to my beta MrBenzedrine: She has sooo much to do and still time for me! Without her, this story would be nothing and her comments crack me up every single time! Further thanks to Slytherinvillian7 (tell me how you like this, hehe), pgoodgrichbloggs (made you swoon, yay!), Myrddin Emrys The Third (wellcome onboard and thank you!), clarfan325 (fast reader!), HarryPGinnyW4eva (Uno!), naarna (thanks, buddy! ;)), Sam Wallflower (soooo glad I made you happy with little Iris!) and Guests (thank you for loving this!).**

 **A little note to the mentioned plant, the snapdragon. It has a double meaning. I think you all get the dragon-reference... but in German, the plant's name (and the reason I chose it originally) is "Löwenmäulchen", what could be translated into English as "lion's little mouth"- Gryffindor! I was so laughing my arse off when I saw the English name...**

 **Disclaimer: You know it...**

With a reassuring peck on Arthur's cheek, Hermione excused them from the table to, "Get some fresh air after the strenuous and delightful lecture on history." Draco simply nodded along and followed her out.

Hermione smiled conspiratorially at Ginny. "Gin, are your mother's snapdragons still blooming behind the house? I want them to show them off to Draco."

After being friends so long, the pregnant witch instantly knew that Hermione needed her back for a little alone-time with Draco. "Yes, they're flourishing this year. It's very educational to see the when a bumblebee _plunges_ in, so anxious to reach the sweet nectar. And it seems always _so_ satisfied when they have finished."

Draco was the only man in the vicinity that got the obvious double-meaning She-Potter implied. Perhaps it was the earlier hint Hermione gave him that got him there; while exchanging the 'botanical' words with the redhead, she had snuck her hand around his waist to bury it in his trousers' front pocket. What, for an onlooker, looked like an innocent, cozy gesture was pure torture for Draco. His witch's finger grazed teasingly over his erection. He was more than glad for the strong wandless glamour he had cast some hours ago, when Hermione had helped Mother Weasley to set the table and 'accidentally' dropped some cutlery – between his legs. Of course she had to bend over deep to pick it up, leaning on him, giving him a nice view of her perfect breasts.

' _The Sorting Hat was wrong. He should have sorted her into Slytherin with her cunning and devious streaks. First the library, then the bathtub and now the Weasley's garden. The poll in eighth year was right; she really is a`'Sex-Goddess in a pretty disguise'.'_

In the garden, Ginny approached her brother, Bill, accusing him loudly, "Did you know that it was _your_ forbidden move with the Bludger that distracted Malfoy, and was the only reason Gryffindor won today?" The following discussion was lively enough to conceal the silencing charm the witch cast behind Draco and Hermione. Ginny simply didn't want them to experience the same interruption she and Harry had last Christmas. They had to confound traumatized Victoire.

Arms around each other, Hermione and Draco slowly wandered through Molly's garden and turned around the corner, out of the remaining guest's view. In a blink, Draco had pressed her to the wall and kissed her passionately, finally acting upon his pent up sexual frustration of the last hours. "One day you'll make me forget my own name, you minx. With your big eyes, and soft hands, and wild hair and full breasts, and—heaven help me—this delicious round arse." He had his large hands around the latter now, the kneading motions making Hermione moan.

"Don't worry. You _will_ remember it when you make me scream it in ecstasy." Hermione couldn't believe her own ears. Draco brought sides of her to the surface that she didn't know she had. And she loved it. With him, she felt challenged and balanced at the same time.

Her last words snapped Draco's last control. He needed her. Now. Fast and hard. He growled and pinned her hands over her head, kissed her so fierce that he nearly drew blood from her lips. He resumed by trailing kisses along her jaw and neck. Feeling him sucking on a particularly sensitive spot, Hermione arched her back to grind her pelvis against his tempting hardness. At some point, her legs had found their way around his hip, securely hooked behind him. Unfortunately, the fabric of his trousers and the lacy panties she wore under her summer dress still separated them.

"How do you plan to strip us of these unnecessary items called underwear, oh mighty Slytherin?" For a moment they ceased their kissing, Hermione looked Draco in his eyes; they had turned into the colour of the Sea in a thunderstorm.

"Slytherins always have a plan to get out of things," he replied, still holding his grip on her wrists.

Hermione nodded her head slightly to the side. "Do they, now? I daresay Gryffindors are faster."

When she said that, Draco suddenly felt his belt loosen, his fly open, and his trousers sink to the floor. He didn't stop to admire the naughty bit of magic Hermione had performed on him. Instead he wasted no time, leaving her hands over her head, fixed only by one of his hands, he used the other to wander under the hem of her dress and pull her soaked panties aside. With a relieved grunt, he sunk his length into her. He relished the feeling of her heat around him, stilling for a moment before he started to move in her.

"Fuck! Hermione, since when have you been so wet for me?"

Now equally giving in to carnal pleasures, Hermione panted, "Since you put on the Quidditch wear."

Draco finally released her wrists then and she snuck her arms around his head, hands pulling him towards her for a firework of tongues. The new angle provided Draco with the necessary leverage to fuck her relentlessly, his thrusts deep and fast, making them void of rational thoughts- commanding them just to feel. Feel the other's moans and sighs where their chests touched, feel the wetness where they were joined, feel the pressure of fulfilment mounting. Draco felt his orgasm approaching quickly, indicated by the tingle from his spine to his cock and an impatient tugging in his testicles. His arms caged Hermione securely, hands resting on her shoulder blades. He urged her breathlessly, "Scream my name, before I can't hold it back anymore. Now!" Those words were enough to trigger Hermione's orgasm and she complied, screaming out his name, unhinged. In turn, the constriction her climax caused on his impossibly hard member made Draco fulfil his announcement, and he spilled his seed into her.

He didn't stop his thrusting immediately, allowing them to ride out their highs slowly. They kissed again, not so driven now, but full of sweet emotion. After a minute, Draco rested his forehead against hers, still cradling her in his arms, and regained his speech. "Where did you learn this handy spell, princess?"

The seductive smile Hermione threw him made his cock twitch again. "There was a very interesting book in the restricted section of the Hogwarts library I will show you someday…"

After a spell or two that straightened their clothes and cleaned them up, Draco and Hermione returned to the group, hand in hand. They heard Ginny saying, "I asked: ' _How are you going in?'_ And the healer: ' _Rectally. No time for lubricant, tough!_ ' And Harry yelled: ' _There's always time for lubricant!'_ Merlin, I'd payed millions of Galleons for a camera to capture Harry's face!"

Hilarious laughter rang through the air at Ginny's punchline. Draco assumed her story had something to do with nasty creatures Potter had stumbled upon on one of his missions. Judging by her husband's goofy, and only a bit embarrassed expression, Ginny would reward him pleasantly later for the exposure of this story.

After the refreshing sex with Hermione, Draco felt calm enough to face his mother and Astoria.

-DHDHDHDHDHDH-

"I see you have finally come to your senses, Draco. I must say I'm pleased." Narcissa gifted her son with a little smile. Draco had invited Astoria to Malfoy Manor to talk things through with her and his mother. His father quietly leaned on the mantle of the fireplace, wand at the ready. Lucius was privy to Draco's and Hermione's findings and fully awaited that things would become worse before they got better.

"What do you mean by 'come to my senses', Mother?" Draco asked reluctantly.

"That is as clear as the day, isn't it? You decided to dump the mudblood like a hot potato and announce your engagement to Astoria here. She will make a formidable Mrs. Malfoy!" The witch in question grinned triumphantly, and thanked whom she presumed as her future mother-in-law.

' _Should I tell my mother that she actually used a muggle metaphor? Better not._ ' went through Draco's head. It was awkward enough for him to be in the same room with Astoria after the stunt she had pulled in his office yesterday.

She had waited _on_ _his desk_ for him, clad in expensive white lingerie that left _nothing_ to the imagination. Her legs had been spread wide towards the door and her breasts puffed out when he entered his office—with the Head Auror (formerly known as Scarhead) in tow—and the whole congregation from the German Ministry following him.

One bald man named Klaus Berg had to be admitted to St. Mungo's with a heart attack, and another had fallen in a tirade of German swear words, from which Draco could deduce that the Minister didn't deem Astoria's outfit fitting for a secretary. Harry on the other hand had laughed so hard that he needed a Calming Draught and a reporting owl to his wife to gather his senses again. Astoria was politely -at wandpoint- asked to leave by two of Harry's assistants.

Returning his attention back to the women's chatter, Draco was shocked to discern they had already started to plan the wedding. "I'd like that family heirloom you told me about, to fasten my veil." Astoria wished.

"Attention, ladies." He focused the women with a snarl he had copied from his Godfather Severus Snape. It worked. "I wanted to speak to you in order to explain some of your recent—for the lack of another word— _bitchy_ behaviour." Draco gave them a summary of Hermione's 'project': Slytherin's marking, Lucius the 1st's crazy plans that just, accidentally, didn't lead to the destruction of the Sacred Twenty-Eights. He even explained that they still had some holes to fill—"Bet you've filled them already!" Lucius commented dryly—but that they were hopeful to find a solution somewhere in the Malfoys' records.

"So, Draco, you basically tell us that my urge to marry you, the desire to provide our lines with an heir, my attacking Granger, is a result of a magic your ancestor Lucius, placed upon our elite with the help of a Weasley?" Astoria demanded to know. Draco sighed, relieved that she got it so fast.

"Yes, exactly. Even I seem slightly influenced by this curse. I myself have recently felt the desire to-" he couldn't say 'fuck Granger until she is knocked up', could he? "-reproduce." Lucius recognized his son's descriptions from the time when he had courted Narcissa. Giving into those desires had been so much fun.

"But that's wonderful, Draco!" His mother wasn't even disconcerted. The younger Malfoy looked at her, questioning.

"You marry Astoria, produce an heir with her, and keep the Granger girl as your mistress. We provide her with a fool-prove contraceptive-spell and all is fine. We should leave this out of the usual gossip mill, though, but-"

"Mother! You can't be serious!" Draco's temper reigned.

"What do you expect from your mother and me? That we stand still by the side while you dally around with this second-class-seductress and dirty our blood-lines?" Astoria yelled at him, though his breaking point was not her volume, but her choice of words concerning Hermione.

"That's enough, Astoria! I won't tolerate your insults anymore!" With that he flicked his wand and send the fuming witch to a deep sleep in one of the chairs, barely giving her time to flinch.

"What I won't tolerate, son, is that you go so far as to make up a crazy story to rectify your divergent behaviour. Can't you see that? The mudblood has already brainwashed you!"

Lucius spoke for the first time, his voice surprisingly gentle and reasonable. "Cissy, you can't deny that we Malfoys have a bit of a history with objects that alter someone's behaviour on a larger scale." His father referred to the incident with Tom Riddle's diary that Ginny Weasley years ago was exposed to.

"Don't you dare compare that with Draco's insane story! Why won't you two see reason?"

Lucius nodded to Draco. His father put a stop to his wife's antics by grabbing her around the waist and escorted her out to the gardens to cool down. Draco could hear her not very lady-like swearing echoing down the hallway.

' _Well that went rather well, didn't it?'_ he mused.

He dropped off the still sleeping form of Astoria at Greengrass Manor, informing a House Elf of her condition, and returned to his parent's home to close the eventful day with a cigar and a firewhiskey, discussing business in his father's study. But some thoughts didn't leave his brain: ' _Why does the magic hit me and my father not as hard as the others? What makes us different from generations before us and my mother? What made it possible for me to fall in love with Hermione?'_

 **P.S.: Who can point out the "Evolution"-quote?**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Okay, let's see how you like a bit more emotions... A big THANK YOU to MrBenzedrine for coping with me and making me laugh, every little comment makes me smile! Further thanks to Sam Wallflower (you wanted him, you'll get him!), HarryPGinnyW4eva (next card, you give!), Sazzzzzle (learned so much *hugs*), clarfan325 (always straight to the point), Slytherinvillian7 (no lemons this time, sorry), Sassystarbuck09 (YES!) and Chester99 (totally creative ideas, see how you like mine). Thank you to all those who follow or read my story!**

 **Disclaimer: Not mine, yadayadayaa...**

Hermione sighed. The last two weeks had been tiring for her. After her work at the Ministry, she would floo over to Malfoy Manor and spend some hours in the library, researching for the possibility to counter the magic of the curse. More often than not, Draco would help her, and they would work in comfortable silence. Every evening, the blond wizard would take her home to his or her apartment, and they closed the day together eating dinner, cuddling on the sofa (yes, Draco Malfoy was a cuddler) and, of course, shagging like rabbits. Even alone in the Malfoys' library, Hermione blushed at the thought of the physical aspects of their relationship; in particular at the moment this morning, when she had woken up to a massive orgasm in courtesy of Draco eating her out. That memory made the heat between her thighs coil again.

Startled, her head snapped up in the direction of the door. ' _I am sure Draco wouldn't be against a replay-_ ' but to her surprise, it wasn't Draco that entered, nor Narcissa (she had been banned from Hermione's vicinity- not that she was keen on a confrontation with the Lady). For the first time since she had rushed around the manor with her shoes in her hand, Hermione found herself eye in eye with Draco's father. Reflexively, her hand twitched to her wand that lay on the table next to her.

"Good evening, Miss Granger. I assure you, I mean no harm to you." The wizard approached the table, hands visible to her. Not that the gesture calmed her. After all, she was quite adept at wandless magic herself. And he _had_ fought against her in fifth year, amidst a group of fully-fledged wizards against schoolchildren.

Strangely, these strong thoughts of disdain never befell her in relation to Draco. Of course, he had been the school bully; a quite vicious one at that. But the years had been good to him He had matured, had grown his own opinions, evaluating which values of his pureblood upbringing to adopt and which to banish. He was still arrogant, still utterly self-centred, still dominant. But Hermione also knew the sides of him away from the public eye, when he was caring, loving and even submissive in some points. Nonetheless, she found herself confronted with the man who had berated Draco for being bested – constantly – by her. He was the reason why the boy had taken the Dark Mark in the first place.

"May I take a seat?" Lucius asked.

' _Did he really ask me if he could sit at his own table?'_ Hermione wondered.

"Yes, of course." An uncomfortable silence settled between them.

"How is your research faring?" Lucius finally formulated.

"I am stuck. I went through every diary, every document, every chronic that relates to Lucius the first, and I haven't been able to identify the objects Herman Weasley refers to." Hermione thought it best to be honest, no matter who was sitting next to her.

"Perhaps it helps to step back a bit and look upon the things from a new angle?" Lucius suggested. An inappropriate thought rushed through Hermione, ' _I can assure you, Draco and I have tried every angle!'_ But, muggle-born and all, she possessed manners, so she didn't voice it. Though there was a question she itched to ask.

"Sorry to be so blunt, Mr. Malfoy, but…. How is it that you are so… different from your time as a Death Eater?" Hermione wasn't sure if that was the right way to go, but she couldn't take back her words now, could she? "I don't expect you to answer, I just thought-"

"It's alright, Miss Granger. That's a question I've been asking myself every day to no satisfying answer. I think a part of it is shame. Shame to be reduced to a prisoner in my own home, to be too weak to protect my own flesh and blood, to see a half-blood shedding blood in my proud pureblood's home. My wand, the epitome of my magic personality, was abused; my wife, the love of my life, was living in fear, but in the end braver than me. And my son, the one that I raised to believe that the Malfoy name pressured him to reach for purity and unlimited power, was the one that trashed all my beliefs in the second he lied to protect three innocent young people. In this second, all the darkness that resided upon my heart that dictated my actions since my own adulthood- it finally crumbled the second I saw Draco's face when you were tortured in our drawing room. His helplessness at your bloodshed was the first time I began to understand that purity has a double meaning: One that means purity of ancestry in a way you have uncovered anew recently; and one that means purity of heart, of a love that conquers all."

Hermione gulped at the speech Lucius Malfoy bestowed her; she was honestly touched. She didn't expect a heartfelt apology for his actions- he _was_ a Malfoy, after all. But this was in some ways more authentic than any bid for forgiveness. "And that changed you?"

"Miss Granger, I've felt broken thrice: The day I took the Dark Mark, the day the Dark L-" he breathed in deeply, "-the day Tom Riddle moved in my manor, and the day I failed to protect my child from losing his trust in me. My magic hasn't been the same since that third day. I haven't been the same since that day." Hermione's eyes followed Lucius Malfoy as he solemnly left the library and she pondered the wizard's words. Could it really be that simple?

-DHDHDHDHDHDH-

"Hermione, you're basically tell me that the reason why I am not behaving like Astoria or my mother is the worst mistake in my past?" Draco gestured to his left arm, where the remains of the Dark Mark were covered by a charcoal black button-down shirt. They both sat at a nicely decorated table in an expensive new restaurant in Diagon Alley and had already enjoyed four exquisite courses.

"Yes and no. The curse wasn't fully countered, but dampened to a huge extent. We-" she gestured between her and Draco, "-wouldn't be possible otherwise. And the magic couldn't be cleared, because the darkness that you experienced – the Mark, the fact that Riddle occupied your home, the violent loss of the basic trust in your father – didn't touch the still unknown object, but you; and your father. He said it himself: His magic hasn't been the same since then. What about yours, Draco?"

Draco could only nod. He said no word through dessert and coffee. He needed time to process all the new input. Hermione let hi;, she knew better than to interrupt the man's train of thoughts when he was on the way to solve a mystery on his own. It had taken her years to control the urge to pressure someone in this process, because she was always faster than her company. But with Draco she had finally found someone who could keep up with her – mostly.

"Mother hasn't taken the Mark. She has suffered from the other two aspects, but she hasn't taken the Mark. And you think that once we have lifted the curse, she will change, too? No meddling, to throwing tempers anymore because I'm with you?" He sounded hopeful, and Hermione had to smile at that.

"Well, I don't expect her to make a full turn and be all rainbow and sunshine. She is a pureblood, and I think many of the habits that come with that upbringing have nothing to do with the curse. And she will keep some traits that make her a normal mother: concerned, meddling, protective. Though I hope she will give up the nasty and angry side of it," Hermione chuckled.

"And I'm going to be free of those little voices that sometimes pipe up in my head?"

Draco had told Hermione about the nudges of his subconscious he sometimes felt, which tried to convince him to better take a wife from the Sacred Twenty-Eight families. The same voice that wanted Hermione to accidentally forget or mess up (rationally he knew that this was impossible) the contraceptive charm, fuck her until both of them couldn't move (wait, he already did that), and in the aftermath, would result in a growing swell of her belly like the one he could already spot on Daphne.

"That's the plan." Hermione confirmed.

"Have you an idea how to get rid of the curse once we have found the objects? I somehow think that a rise of a new dark wizard, a marking, and the loss of all hope in the manor won't be your choice of actions, would it?"

"You want to apply for the job as a crazy leader? I am sure Harry could help you with that form."

Draco rolled his eyes at the comment in a way he had adopted from the woman in front of him. "Hermione, spill it. Please."

"Okay. The answer is as simple as it is old; our solution is something that made Harry survive the killing curse twice and marks the absolute opposite of what caused the ceasing in the curse for you and your father." Her eyes twinkled at her next revelation.

"Our solution is love."

Draco could barely start to digest the information—did that mean they had to perform an ancient ritual that involved drums and a lot of sex? Or did he have to declare his love for her? He was open for both options, he decided—when someone called Hermione's name from the entrance.

Viktor Krum had entered, and with him the Bulgarian Quidditch team.

Viktor Krum, who had taken Hermione's virginity in the summer after sixth year. The man who still sended her tickets for international Quidditch tournaments and invitations to the Bulgarian countryside. Draco knew that his witch only harboured feelings of friendship for the Quidditch star, but he doubted that the same could be said about the older man. Draco didn't like it that he had shown up on his date with Hermione, and even less so when she got up from the table and went to greet him excitedly. Draco wanted to jump up and throw her over his shoulder, but instead he stayed seated and tried to control his breathing. He paid for the meal and observed the group.

"Viktor! Such a surprise to see you here in London!" They hugged, and Krum's hands were too close to Hermione's bum for Draco's liking. After a quick translation spell, Krum introduced _Draco's_ woman to the entire team. They were in England for a sports conference of some sort. He didn't mind the introduction per se – but he minded like hell that Krum had his arm around Hermione's shoulders.

' _Cool down. You don't want to cause a scene in public.'_ Draco tried to tell himself. While he and Hermione hadn't kept their relationship a secret, they had avoided to fill the Prophet's front page with it, and a duel with an international VIP in a restaurant wouldn't exactly help with that—though Draco was convinced he'd win such a duel easily, being a Malfoy, an ex-Death Eater, second in his class and all.

Krum leaned over to Hermione and whispered something in her ear, causing her to slap him on the arm playfully. Another whisper and Hermione freed herself from the wizard's grasp. Krum started talking again, this time he underlined his words with a telling wink.

' _Fuck the public. This princess is mine!'_ Boiling in anger and jealously, Draco stood up and approached the group.

"Hermione, why don't you introduce me to your friend?"

' _Slytherin rule 2: The emphasis can change words into weapons._ ' Even the shallow Bulgarian bon-bon had to catch the insult in Draco's pronunciation of 'friend'.

The witch in question looked at Draco with innocent eyes. ' _Merlin, she really has no idea what is going on, does she?'_

"Of course, Draco, this is Viktor Krum. Viktor, this is Draco Malfoy. I think you remember him from your visit at Hogwarts?" The man nodded and extended his hand, and the two men exchanged a handshake that was more forceful than necessary.

"I remember the famous Draco Malfoy. You see, Draco, I am sorry to interrupt yours and Hermione's business meeting, but I invited her to join us at our table and have a drink at the my hotel. Can you postpone your Ministry talk for another day?" It took Draco every ounce of self-control not to brandish his wand and hex this sorry excuse of a wizard to next Sunday. He decided to follow Slytherin rule 11: ' _Parade what is yours.'_

He placed both hands on Hermione's hips from behind, her back pressing to his front and was pleased to feel her breathing accelerate at his sudden closeness. He didn't want her to feel any man's proximity except his.

With a drawl that would have make his late godfather proud, he replied, "I assure you, Krum, our private evening won't be interrupted by some Quidditch talk and cheap drinks. We have more important issues to care for. Don't you agree, love?"

Hermione was torn between laughing out loud and demanding a quickie in the restrooms. In the end, she smiled friendly at Viktor.

"Draco is right. We have to leave now. It was nice to see you again and to get to know your team. Send me a postcard, will you?" With a nod of her head, Hermione took Draco's hand and lead him out of the restaurant. As soon as the door closed behind them, she turned to face the blond wizard.

"Draco, I don't know if I should feel affronted or turned on because of you going all alpha-male on me!"

"Poor woman, let me help you with the decision." In a split second, he had his hands in her hair and kissed her possessively. When the need for oxygen became overbearing, she moved her lips away from his.

"Did you know that there are nearly as many examples for an alpha-female as for an alpha-male in animal-species?"

Draco smiled and gave her a sweet kiss on the tip of her nose. "You really are an insufferable know-it-all, but I love you this way."

' _Ouch, did you say that aloud?'_ The first surprised, then softened expression on Hermione's face told him that he had indeed poured his heart out into the brilliant witch in his arms.

"Never in a million years did I think that I'd say this: I love you, too, Draco Malfoy."

The following, slow and loving kiss made them forgot that they were in public; and it made them overhear the silent _click!_ of a magical camera.

 **P:S: Someone might think: Pah, love, too simple... but think about what JKR did in HP1...**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Yay, here comes number 16! Thank you to MrBenzedrine-she simply is a genius and betaes at every given opportunity *hearts*! Also thanks to pgoodrichbloggs (love possessive Draco, too!), Chester99 (yes, he isn't very bright, is he?), Slytherinvillian7 (very Malfoy!), Sazzzzzle (Blimey bird, I'd like that trouser-unbuckle-spell as well;)), Sam Wallflower (don't shake, it is here!), HarryPGinnyW4eva (very wise reaction to the solution, thank you so much) and clarkfan325 (glad you liked it, too!).**

 **Disclaimer: All JKR's.**

"Tell me, Ginny, when are you due?" Jean Granger carefully stroked Ginny's belly.

"Five weeks from tomorrow, Mrs. Granger. I'm beginning to feel nervous about the birth."

Ginny, Hermione, and Hermione's mother sat in Hermione's living room, waiting for dinner to be served. Harry and her father had convinced her that it was the perfect opportunity to show Draco the joys of cooking the muggle way, but to her it sounded more like a 'cross-interrogation-of-my-daughter's-new-boyfriend-helped-by-her-best-friend'-moment for William Granger.

"There is no need to be afraid. It is the most natural thing in the world, don't you agree, sweetheart?" Jean asked her daughter.

"How do I know, Mum? I have never been pregnant myself." Hermione answered, not liking the hinting tone her mother procured.

"With the frequency you and Draco are going at it, it won't be long before you are." Ginny grinned.

"Ginevra, seriously!" Hermione blushed from head to toe. Her sex-life wasn't necessarily something she wanted to discuss in the company of her mother.

"Minny, relax, you are a grown-up woman with needs, and Draco is obviously very fit and more than adapt to fulfil those needs. On top of that, he is probably intelligent enough to have an actual conversation with after—the _deed_."

Hermione hoped for a black hole to open in her living room to swallow her. Okay, Draco was certainly attractive enough to make every woman drool, but could a conversation be any more humiliating?

-DHDHDHDHDHDHDH-

"So, _Drago_ , how do you earn your money?" William Granger asked his daughter's boyfriend sternly.

"It's Draco, Sir, and I am Deputy Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation," Draco politely answered while he tried to peel the potatoes – _tried_ being the keyword. Harry took the peeler and the potato out of Draco's hands and patiently demonstrated again how it worked.

"I suppose you can provide financially for my little Minny, then?" Draco didn't like where this was going. And the next potato was equally as frustrating as the last.

"What do you mean by that—Sir?" Draco realised that Harry hadn't said a word in the whole interrogation, and it didn't bode well to him when the Head Auror stepped aside to have someone else lead an interrogation.

"It means, _Drago_ , that my daughter doesn't need to work and can stay at home with the children. Right, Harry?"

Harry nodded, amused at Mr. Granger's words.

' _Hermione wouldn't stay at home even if I wanted her to do so. And I'd be losing all chances of further reproduction if I did, because, the independant woman that she is, she would hex my balls for that.'_ Draco pondered. What should he answer?

"I assure you, Mr. Granger, I am more than stable financially, and I have only the best intentions concerning Hermione, but—"

"Well, the photo in the _Prophet_ showed something else, didn't it?" Hermione's father interrupted him.

And that was the moment when Draco remembered that, after being obliviated and handed their memories back, Hermione's parents had demanded a better insight on the events in the wizarding world. Hermione reacted with a subscription of the _Daily Prophet_ ; the very _Prophet_ which featured a photo of Hermione and Draco a week ago, kissing passionately in front of a restaurant, headlined with ' _The Golden Girl and the Malfoy heir—love against all odds!'_.

Draco paled. He had faced one of the darkest wizards of all times, had fought with, and against, Death Eaters—but the inconspicuous man in front of him made that seem like a first year's potion lesson. He worked on people's teeth, after all, and that was scary as Hell!

Upon looking in Draco's face, Harry broke out in laughter, and Mr. Granger followed soon after. Draco was befuddled. Had they fooled him?

"Well done, Draco!" Hermione's father clapped him on the back. "Our Harry here thought you would crumble after the 'providing-for-my-daughter'-line, but you made it to the photo-mentioning. That spared you from the 'what-does-the-tattoo-on-your-arm-Harry-told-me-about-mean'-question."

' _They have fooled me, indeed. Now I know where Hermione's cunning is coming from.'_

"Get the girls, Draco, dinner is ready." Mr. Granger was about to shoo him out of the kitchen, taking some deliciously smelling meat out of the oven, along with roasted vegetables and potatoes.

"What? Why did I have to learn how to peel potatoes, then?" Draco looked at the bowl of abused potatoes in front of him.

Harry answered him, grinning from ear to ear, "That was my idea, too tempting!"

However, before Draco could call for the ladies, William Granger lay a heavy hand on his shoulder, the pressure of his palm indicating that he was talking business now. "Fun aside, son. If you hurt my daughter in any way, especially considering your less than shiny past, you will experience the modern and male equivalent of a witch hunt, with you as victim. Is. That. Clear?" Draco paled and nodded. He believed the muggle in front of him and his threats. ' _Sweet Salazar, old Voldy could have taken lessons in intimidation with Mr. Granger.'_

-DHDHDHDHDHDH-

All awkwardness aside, the dinner with Hermione's parents and the Potters went rather well for the couple. When Jean shared the latest gossip about her neighbourhood, Hermione shot Draco a glance that read ' _See? Muggle or pureblood, sometimes all mothers are alike.'_ Shortly after that, the conversation turned to gardening; something Draco had a slight idea of, considering it was his mother's favourite pastime.

"You should have seen how the magnolia-tree has grown this year, Minny! All the wonderful blossoms and new branches!" Jean chatted excitedly.

It wasn't before Ginny said, "We Weasleys never had such a tree in our garden, but—" that Hermione's fork and knife clattered on her dish, sending the vegetables flying.

"Uh-oh." Jean observed her daughter, which had zoomed out, her face expressionless.

"Uh-oh?" Draco asked, a little concerned.

"That is her 'I know my professor is a werewolf'-face." Harry's voice was relaxed.

"She will share with us when she has her thought's sorted out." Hermione's father added, familiar with her brain's characteristics since she had mused about where the presents come from on Christmas at the age of three.

Minutes passed in which the chatter at the table went on and Hermione was still in her memory palace. Then slowly she turned to Draco, smiling.

"They Weasleys don't have one, but the Malfoys do, the Blacks, the Greengrasses, I saw it myself… it all makes so much sense now! This the one object that is connected to all family members and the curse can affect them all this way! The tree, Draco! The objects we were looking for: The curse is bound to the family trees!"

Draco blinked. He knew Hermione was right.

-DHDHDHDHDHDH-

They finished dinner in a bit of a rush, and it took Hermione everything not to send her guests home. Ginny and Harry were a bit disappointed that they couldn't see Hermione actively solving the mystery, but Ginny could barely keep her eyes open, so tired was she. Half an hour later, Draco apparated him and Hermione into his old bedroom at the Manor and produced his dragon-patronus to inform his father of their presence.

"Why did you do that? In a manor this size they won't even realise that we are here." Hermione asked.

"Firstly, I want my mother occupied and as far from the tree room as possible when we are working there; secondly, since I moved out of the manor, I found it necessary to inform my parents when I arrive; the sight of my mother riding my father into oblivion in his study is something I'd rather not experience again." Draco answered, shuddering at the memory.

"Absolutely no complaint here. Let's go shatter some ancient magic, okay?"

Upon entering the tree room, Draco wanted to conjure a loveseat to sit on, but Hermione stopped him. "It's always easier for me to think and do magic when I can sit on the floor." With that, she sat down on the rug cross legged and took " _The Treasured Trees_ " out of her bag, resting the heavy book in her lap.

"We have to be careful when we counter the curse, because we don't want to sever the connection the living family members have with it, otherwise the tree won't function next time." Hermione traced along a page in the old book, glad that she didn't have to dumb things down when talking to Draco.

"You mean the automatic addition of spouses when a couple is bonded in marriage?" Draco always found this characteristic fascinating, though he had never seen it happen on the tree, just read about it.

"Yes, that and the genesis of a new branch that announces the upcoming arrival of a child." Hermione added, and Draco understood now how accurate the family tree worked: It wasn't a mere record of his family's history, it was a living companion of it; one that would never lie.

"How do we break the curses on the other trees?"

"It is my theory that it will suffice to break it on the Malfoy tree, because Lucius made it the centrepiece of the magic. And because the trees are connected through the people in it, the counter should spread. But let me isolate the curse first, yes?" That was Draco's signal to become a silent observer. He also sat down and saw how Hermione worked her own magic on the tree, waving her wand in intricate patterns. She had explained to him beforehand that she had to isolate the curse from the tree's deepest layers, because it had been placed there by Lucius the first when Herman Weasley had created the tree. The Malfoy family tree had been the first ever (that stood in ' _The Treasured Trees'_ ), followed by many others; those outside the Sacred Twenty-Eights still being an amazing piece of magic but no victims of the curse, Hermione assumed (and she was always right).

Her eyes closed, wand moving and at some occasions, sparks flying, Draco was again hit with the question how anyone could have the audacity to deny this witch her rightful place in the wizarding world. For him, she was magic in her most powerful and fascinating form.

After an hour of concentrated work, Hermione opened her eyes, visibly drained. "I think I did it." She swayed a bit and leaned onto Draco's chest, head resting on his shoulder. He had moved behind her somewhere in her activities. Some relaxed minutes later, she spoke again.

"Time to counter the curse. Let's get up." Hermione let Draco help her to her feet.

"Will you reveal to me now how this whole love-thing works? Lots of carnal pleasures on the rug? I don't want carpet burns, but hey,—" Draco was already halfway out of his clothes in his head.

Hermione slapped him on his arm playfully. "Prat. Let's try a more efficient way first, okay? Though, your approach is very tempting." Draco gave her one of his most seductive smiles at that. "I daresay there is just one way to counter the curse: A sacrifice, given with love, applied directly to the tree."

Draco frowned, "I don't know if I like where this is going, Hermione. Sacrifices usually come with blood, don't they? It is how powerful wizardry often was performed back in the days when there was no difference between dark or light magic."

"Draco, it won't take much of my—"

"No!" Draco's face bore an expression of anger and fear, and his voice wavered as he spoke, "You will not sacrifice some of your blood. More than enough of it has been shed in this very house, don't you think? I'd love to give some of mine, though."

Hermione was touched at his caring behaviour. "But that won't work. Please, don't interrupt me now. We need blood that was deliberately given in an act of love. Preferably of someone the curse considers as sacred and someone who isn't by far. We are the perfect candidates for that. I will give my blood for you, and you will give yours for me. And together we will coat the most vulnerable part of the tree with it," she explained and pointed to the roots, where the tree started with Armand Malfoy.

"And I wouldn't call it bloodshed. Some drops will do; the symbolism of the gesture counts not the amount." The blond looked anxious still- the sight of the beautiful woman in front of him, tortured and screaming at the floor years ago had left deep emotional scars on him.

"I know you love me. So do you trust me, Draco?" Hermione's voice was gentle. And Draco's answer came without hesitation.

"With my life."

She took his hand in hers, palm up. Then she let her wand slide over the skin there, cutting it open. A thin line of blood quelled. Understanding, Draco took her hand in his and made her bleed equally, his wand hand shaking a bit. Not a word was uttered when they pressed their palms together, mixing their blood in the process, eyes fixed on their joint hands . They hadn't spoke about that part, but it felt right to do so. Their unharmed hands intertwined, they crossed the distance to the tree.

After a deep breath, they leaned down and, simultaneously, pressed their bloodied palms at the very bottom of the family tree, right at the place where the plaque read ' _sanctimonia vincit semper_ '. As soon as their skin came in touch with the cool surface, something that could only be described as a magical shudder occurred. They felt the magic shift in the room, as if the weather had cleared after a thunderstorm. A soft, almost tickling sensation encompassed Draco's magical core, gaining power until it nearly blinded him. He felt feebly reminded of the Occlumency lessons of his youth, and wanted to erect his mental barriers, when the tree's magic soothed him. With a gasp he opened his eyes, finding Hermione smiling up to him.

"How do you feel, Draco?"

"I can't describe it. Free of a pressure I didn't notice I had before. A bit giddy, as if high on magic."

Hermione's smile widened. "That was the effect I had hoped for. I think we really did it!" She pulled him up and threw her arms around him, hugged him, and finally kissed him fully on the lips. He gave a little moan at the sensual feeling of her soft lips on his after the intensive magical experience, and he let his tongue slide over her lower lip teasingly. The kiss deepened, their tongues touched, and Draco strengthened his grip on Hermione's waist, one hand caressing her back, then her upper arm, coming to a rest directly beneath her breast. His thumb moved to circle her nipple beneath the thin fabric of her blouse and her bra.

A wanton sigh escaped Hermione and she interrupted the kiss, "Ah, I see, you want to ensure the success of our work by engaging in carnal pleasures, don't you?"

"100 points to Gryffindor, princess."

And with that, he bent and carried her to his bedroom bridal style. This time with absolute no other intentions as to ravish her thoroughly.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Soooo, this is the last chapter, that should tie up some loose ends. Thank you to all those who read, reviewed, followed and favourited this story. First and foremost MrBenzedrine who was my tourguide on this journey, the best beta one could wish for and an amazing woman *hugs and kisses*! Thank you to all those who reviewed the last chapter: HuffPride (not forgotten sorry again), pgoodrichboggs (you always crack me up!), Sam Wallflower (no Ginny in this, but perhaps you squeal a bit), Chester99 (here's the aftermath), clarkfan325 (I'm very proud of Hermione for that!), IGOTEAMEDWARD (Hallelujah!), and HarryPGinnyW4eva (I'm totally blushing at your huge compliments!) and Slytherinvillian7 (she kicked my arse into writing, thanks again for that!).**

 **Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.**

As soon as they entered his old bedroom, Draco all but threw Hermione on his bed in his haste to put up some silencing charms. On his way to the four-poster, he pulled his shoes and socks off and covered Hermione's body with his own, resting between her legs, fully clothed.

"I did some research in the Malfoy library and found an interesting spell one of my ancestors developed." Draco's grey eyes locked with Hermione's brown.

"Is it similar to that from the restricted section at Hogwarts?" she smiled.

"I'd say it's better, because we Malfoys don't do anything halfway. But judge yourself." He squinted his eyes and furrowed his brows—it was not that easy for him to concentrate on a wandless spell when his blood rested insistently where they touched between Hermione's legs.

A tickling sensation, a cool breeze over his bum and—most evidently—his cock making skin-to-skin contact with Hermione's folds told him he had succeeded in magicking their clothes away. A gasp told him that Hermione hat noticed, too.

"Gods, Draco, remind me to attach a 'thank you from Hermione Granger'-plaque next to the picture of this wizard on the family tree." Hermione, eyes closed, relished in the feeling of Draco's body so close to her.

"No."

Hermione's eyes fluttered open at Draco's reaction. "No? Why not? I thought the Malfoy men appreciated a bit of worshipping." Still not moving, Draco spoke again, his voice resonating in a seductive timbre that made Hermione wet and wanting every time he used it.

"Oh yes, we do. But I can't approve of the text. I'd rather want it to read 'thank you from Hermione Malfoy'."

"What?" Hermione sat up with a start, nearly butting heads with the blond wizard. "Blimey O'Riley! Draco, you giant squid! Did you just propose to me while we're stark naked and about to have sex in your family's bloody manor?" she cried out.

"Yes?" Draco was a bit unsettled and leaned back, so he could stretch his legs.

"Well, try harder!" She couldn't hold back a smile, but still managed to obtain her characteristic bossy tone. Pulling at both of her hands, he settled her down on his lap, straddling him; and of course, Draco obliged.

"Hermione Jean Granger, we have a past that we've overcome, a present that I enjoy and love, and I want nothing more than a future with you to share. Will you make me the luckiest ferret in the world and marry me?" He had her even before this heartfelt declaration, but Hermione couldn't admit that.

"Yes!" For emphasis, she impaled herself at his hard cock with this answer—they were stark naked and about to have sex, after all. Not that he complained when she rocked against him, the soles of her feet on his arse, sliding him deeper into her until he thought he'd explode in her.

When he jerked his hips up a little, Hermione moaned and leaned back on his bent legs, her pert breasts arching towards him. He leaned down and latched onto them, sucking and licking as much of it as he could with his mouth and tongue. After he had tended both with the attention they deserved, Hermione sat up straight again, and they both moved their hips in sync. She decided that she had found a new favourite position; she could feel him so deliciously deep, the tip of his length making contact with her cervix. She had read—of course she had—that some women were uncomfortable with such deep penetration, but in combination with the exquisite friction of her clit rubbing against the soft hairs of his lower abdomen and the blissful kissing they continued, it was the pure erotic heaven for Hermione. She didn't know how long they rocked like this against each other, slowly, moaning and sighing. But then she felt herself nearing her climax and desperately wanted to take him with her, moaning in his ear, "I'm so, so close. Come with me, Draco, will you?" She apparently had robbed him of the ability to speak, but the low, almost pained growl that escaped him and the beginning of convulsions of his dick inside her gave her his confirmation. As promised, she came with him in what she felt was the most intense orgasm in her life. She thought she'd black out at the sheer ecstasy of it, screaming his name while the muscles in her womb clenched around him, milking him of every drop of seed he had to give.

After the last contractions had faded, they remained connected, Draco turning around so he could place his head on a pillow. His arms still caged Hermione, and she never wanted to leave this safe and warm place. He obviously felt the same, because some minutes later they were both fast asleep.

-DHDHDHDHDHDH-

Hermione awoke when the warm surface she had rested her head upon shuffled. Protesting, she opened her eyes a bit. Merlin, the sunlight shining through the windows told her it was already morning!

Draco gave her a kiss on the nose and told her he had to floo-call Harry—something about leftover dark objects; she should come to the dining room when she had dressed. A half an hour later, Hermione was showered and dressed in yesterday's clothes. She entered the dining room, where the Malfoys already sat at the breakfast table, the aroma of fresh coffee, tea, and croissants tickling her nose. Draco got up, gave her a brief kiss, and arranged a chair for her.

"Good morning, Miss Granger, do you feel well rested?" Lucius's smile indicated that he knew exactly what the reason for Hermione's relaxed state was.

"Yes, thank you. Good morning, Mrs. Malfoy."

Draco's mother sat her eyes on the muggleborn witch, and Hermione hesitated—how much of Narcissa's behaviour had really been caused by the curse?

"You two have some explaining to do!" Without further introduction, Narcissa held up the week-old newspaper article that featured the discovery of her son's relationship with the famous witch at the breakfast table.

"There is nothing to explain, Mother." Draco frowned; he had hoped that his mother would accept them as a couple after the curse had been lifted.

"Yes there is! ' _The Golden Girl and the Malfoy heir chose the plain atmosphere in front of the expensive restaurant in Diagon Alley to declare their love for each other'_. This dim-witted Mathilda Parkinson will throw a fit over how unbecoming this whole thing for a member of our circle is when I meet her for lunch!" Draco and Hermione looked at each other, disappointed at the seemingly useless actions from the last evening. "I hope it will work when I explain to her that it is the newest trend for the muggle-elite to declare their love in a public place, and that this reporter didn't surprise you, but was ordered to wait there!"

Hermione wasn't sure what she should make of this, Draco wasn't, either, "Does that mean that you approve of our relationship?" Draco wanted to keep their engagement quiet to his parents before he was convinced he could handle his mother's reaction—and he wanted the ring that belonged to his great-grandmother that was in his mother's possession on Hermione's finger.

"I said so, didn't I?" The other three shook their heads at Narcissa's question. "Perhaps you didn't listen well, then. When I laid in bed yesterday, it occurred me that it would do the Malfoy Empire good to have some personal contacts to the muggleworld, and this— _union_ will serve this purpose well. Talking about publicity—how does that project of yours fare, Miss Granger?"

His son and Hermione distracted, Lucius recognised Narcissa's tactic as Syltherin rule 5: ' _When you regret your actions—pretend they never happened and change the topic.'_

-DHDHDHDHDHDH-

 _Five weeks later…_

"And you are sure Hermione will floo over soon?" Narcissa asked, eager to make wedding plans with her future daughter-in-law.

"Yes, Mother. She wanted to come over after she visited the Potters at the hospital- she actually was to arrive an hour ago." James Potter had arrived the day before yesterday, and Draco had difficulties to separate his fiance from the—admittedly very cute—baby.

While his mother droned on about which flowers they should use for decoration at the wedding they wanted to celebrate in nine months, and his father commented that with noises like "Mmmh, yes yes, if you think so, Cissy", Draco thought back to the last few weeks.

After Lucius, Draco and Hermione had carefully checked Narcissa for traces of the curse: it became clear that she was still a pureblood to the core, complete with prejudices, arrogant streaks and her nose in the air—but without the tendency to fall into banshee-mode when she encountered Hermione or was confronted with her son's engagement. She actually became quite attached to the muggleborn witch, because she liked their animated discussions and the fact that Hermione talked back. A bonus for Draco's mother was that she could take her to shopping trips and dress her future daughter-in-law up while arguing over Goblin rights or British politics. And it was Narcissa who could help to fill the remaining gaps in the inner workings of the curse. Hermione had racked her brain over the fact that there had been two Blacks – Andromeda and Sirius—who were unaffected by it. Narcissa's deeper insight of the Black's family secrets provided them with surprises: Sirius had been legally adopted by the Potters, therefore banned from the tree, and that lifted the curse (because he was no longer a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight). An even bigger revelation was made when Narcissa and her long estranged sister Andromeda met: The older witch confessed under tears she had an affair with Evan Rosier that resulted in her daughter Nymphadora. The curse was somewhat satisfied with the creation of an offspring, and shortly before Andromeda discovered her pregnancy, she met Ted Tonks. He always knew that he wasn't Nymphadora's biological father, but loved her as his own nonetheless.

A week after the 'tree-renovation,' an exotic looking bird arrived at Draco's office and brought a short letter to him; Astoria apologised for her 'unusual'-behaviour and explained that she needed some time in the Caribbean with a cocktail in her hand and some attractive wizards to enjoy in order to clear her head. Draco didn't complain about that- the farther Astoria was away from him and his office, the better.

The biggest surprise for Draco was the easy companionship his father and Hermione had fallen into. He didn't dare to ask how, but the two of them had reached an understanding for each other, if not automatically grabbing their wand when one of them entered the room was any indication. Lucius had even led Hermione through the library, amused by the absolute glee in the witch's face when he explained to her that as the future Mrs. Malfoy, she'd had unlimited access to every single book—even the ones who should have been sacked by the ministry.

When Hermione entered, his mother was fully engaged in a monologue about how fascinating Philomena Greengrass, and the physical healing Hermione's mother practised. (Draco was utterly glad that he hadn't attended the meeting between Jean Granger, his mother and Mrs. Greengrass).

Draco gave her a heartfelt kiss, and was about to pull out a chair for her, when his mother engaged Hermione in a warm hug. "You're late, Hermione." Draco could have sworn he heard his fiance mumble under her breath, "Don't I know THAT!", but his mother didn't care. "But it doesn't matter as long as you are here now. I wanted to give some of the family heirlooms to you. I saw a beautiful ruby necklace yesterday, and red simply isn't my colour." Off she went, gesturing for Hermione to follow her. With a sigh, his witch traipsed behind Narcissa.

While the woman were absent, Draco and his father had a nice chat about the pros and cons of informing the press before or after the ceremony of their marriage – Draco liked to talk about the wedding, but it was so much easier for him to do so with Hermione and Lucius than his mother—when the Malfoy men were interrupted by a shriek. Seconds later, Narcissa's fox-patronus barged into the dining-room, sounding "Tree-room, now!" in a voice that conveyed urgency.

After a concerned glance towards each other (it was an ancient Manor, crazy things occurred there), Lucius and Draco sprinted-no, Malfoys don't sprint—they hasted gracefully towards the tree room. A downright giddy Narcissa and a bit peeved Hermione greeted them.

"We were walking by the room and suddenly there was a light coming out, and then—" Narcissa started.

"What happened? Is it the curse again?" Lucius demanded to know.

"No, it is more history repeating itself…come here and have a look, Draco." Hermione gently pulled Draco towards the family tree.

"We have discovered that the tree's magic still works…" She pointed, now with lips curled to a smile, towards Draco's picture on the wall. The place right beside him, where Hermione's portrait would appear as soon as they were wed, was still empty.

But beneath the heir's face, unmistakably and visible to all, a new branch had formed.

Draco's brain needed a bit to process the information. ' _Three, two, one—there it is!'_ counted Lucius in his head, until a smile that could melt the sun developed in his son's face. The older Malfoy gave an amused chuckle and carefully led his wife out of the room to give Hermione and Draco some privacy upon the big news.

"I had it checked at 's today and wanted to tell you when we are alone, but the tree was simply faster, and it must have happened when we lifted the curse five weeks ago—" Hermione's rambling was interrupted by a kiss that Draco's lips enveloped her in, his hands in her unruly curls.

"Stop, Hermione. Giving it branches to grow is the most wonderful way to put the tree to its use. I love you—both." After a gentle caress over Hermione's belly, he lifted his voice, "Mother, when is a wedding in the pureblood elite considered as 'rushed'?"

Narcissa's voice, clearly laughing, resonated from the hallway. "I don't care anymore, Draco! Give me an owl and two hours' time and you can have that wedding two weeks from now!"

-DHDHDHDHDHDH-

"I think it should be more over to the left…yes, it's symmetrical now, you can fix it." Hermione spoke to her husband.

When he heard a rustling noise, Draco smiled at the bundle in Hermione's arms. Wrapped in a soft green blanket, Scorpius Malfoy snuggled deeper into his mother's chest. With a sleepy yawn, he opened his eyes, which had the exact same shade of grey as his father's and grandfather's.

"Your mother will always be a know-it-all, Scorp, get used to it. Though I hope you inherited your mother's brain." He pressed a kiss on the soft blond hair on his son's head.

Hermione grinned, "He certainly has his father's looks, no surprise here. Barely three weeks old and he has already charmed everyone around him, from his grandparents over the Chosen One to Hogwarts' Headmistress."

Draco's voice was proud when he replied, "Hey, he IS a Malfoy, after all!" and pointed to the newly added plaque on the family tree, directly over the place where Hermione's, Draco's and Scorpius' portraits hung. "Is it alright this way, princess?"

" _Omnia vincit amor_ ," Hermione read the text aloud and smiled at her husband. "Love conquers all. Perfect."

 **P.S.: Hope you all liked it. I know, some authors here might say: under 100 favourites, and less 200 reviews and Followers, that's not much... but for me, this means the world!**


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